


Unexpected

by thebadwolf



Series: Secrets of Servants [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebadwolf/pseuds/thebadwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John adopt a baby girl. The only problem is that neither of them remember doing it. They aren't even a couple. Yet, the two quickly find themselves falling in love. I wrote this before season 3 came out. </p><p>I kind of just had Sherlock come back quickly after the end of season 2. </p><p>I wrote a rough draft of this and had it up on fanfiction.net. This is a better re-write. It is very AU at this point. Not even sure if I should keep writing it. Please give me feedback. I planned on writing a whole set to go with this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A new start

Sherlock Holmes was at a loss. It didn't happen very often but when it did it was something big and this was big. The day had started off normal. Hadn't it? Well normal as far as Sherlock was concerned.

He quickly got back into the swing of things after his _death_. He took down all of Moriarty's network. Everyone that he could find was dead. He was safe. His friends were safe. Of course John was a little angry that he lied but he understand Sherlock did it to protect him. Part of him preferred life as a dead man. Getting used to day to day life was kind of boring.

At six he had heard John leaving for work. The sound of John cursing over the bag of fingers he had left in the bathroom sink woke him. He tried to go back to sleep but didn't see any point in it. Sleeping wasn't needed. In fact he was surprised he had slept more than a few hours. John's habits were rubbing off on him.

He retrieved the fingers and set up an experiment in the kitchen. His mother had always told him that soda was terrible for him and that a strong soda could remove skin from bone if left to it. Therefor she hadn't let him near it much as a kid.

He had purchased a two litter of coke a cola and was setting it up. He also set up another beaker with Mountain dew. He took John's laptop from his room, cracked the password, and set it up in front of the beakers. He set it up to record a video. He would do a time lapse video and put it on his website.

After a quick search of the kitchen he found no food. There wasn't even milk. He picked up his mobile phone and sent a quick text to John.

 **Out of Milk** SH

Oh well. He wasn't hungry anyway. He could use a cup of coffee. He settled down on the couch with the remote and started to flip through the channels. He smirked when he heard the buzz of his phone. He picked it up.

 **Do you know it's legal for you to buy food?** JW

He laughed to himself as he typed the next words.

 **Is it? Oh. But If I start shopping whatever will you do?** SH

No response. John knew he was just trying to get him going. He was at work and no doubt couldn't answer his text due to a patient.

Bored. Bored. Seven thirty and already bored out of his mind. After a couple of clicks with the remote he knew there was nothing on. The morning news was still on every channel.

Cheating husband found dead. Animal testing protest. Human rights protest. Nuclear testing meeting.

NOTHING!

He got to his feet and turned the telly off. He needed something to do. He considered texting Lestrade but the last time he had texted him so early Lestrade ignored him for three days. Lestrade claimed he had a life outside of his work. Of course Sherlock knew he was lying. He could tell that by the dirty shirt collar. No point pointing it out.

He glanced into the kitchen. He wanted coffee. He wanted to add Dr. Pepper to his test list if the mountain dew and coke a cola failed.

"Damn John," he cursed out loud getting to his feet.

When Sherlock returned an hour later he came back with milk, Dr. Pepper, bread, and something called chicken bouillon cubes. They were marked down and he figured he could find some use for them. He set the bag down on the kitchen table. He glanced down into the beakers and was disappointed to see no reaction.

"Wrong as usual Mummy," he muttered to himself before sitting down on the couch.

It was only then that he noticed something odd. There was a child's car seat in John's chair. He frowned looking at it. It looked brand new. It also looked very expensive. There were no signs of wear or tear. He didn't know much about babies but it looked like it was for a very young child. Possibly a new born? He quickly began to look around the rest of the room. A diaper bag. It was sitting next to end of the couch. That too looked brand new and rather expensive. A client? Perhaps a client came by, had her child, sat everything down, and Mrs. Hudson offered to entertain until Sherlock got back. It was a good theory. Well, it worked anyway. He hadn't had a client bring a child with them so far. There was always a first for everything. He got to his feet and straightened his shirt. He didn't want to look like a complete slob in front of a client.

"Mrs. Hudson!" he yelled. "I"m home."

He put away the few things he had purchased. Except for the Dr. Pepper. He wanted to set that up with the fingers. He was just adding the fingers when Mrs. Hudson walked in carrying a very small infant. She had a smile on her face. That always scared Sherlock.

"Sherlock," she said rocking the child. "Isabell is here. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Who?" Sherlock said already feeling something wasn't right. "Tell you what?"

"The service dropped her off right after you left," Mrs. Hudson explained. "They brought all the paper work. It's on the table. Why didn't you tell me you and John were adopting?"

ADOPTING!

Sherlock grabbed the pile of paperwork. How did he miss this? What the hell was going on? He was getting slow.

Adoptive partner one : Sherlock William Holmes

Adoptive partner two : John Hamish Watson

Child's new name : Isabell Gladys Holmes

Age : twenty one days

Known allergies : None Known Medical problems : None

Reference : Mycroft Holmes

There was more information but Sherlock didn't need to read more. Mycroft. He had done a lot of dirty things in his day but this took the cake. He grabbed his phone and pressed the keys quickly.

 **What is going on?** SH

No response.

 **I mean it. Answer me. Is this your idea of a joke?** SH

Mrs. Hudson didn't seem put off by Sherlock's shock. She simply put the child in her car seat, got the diaper bag, and went about making a bottle.

John. This just didn't affect Sherlock. John's name was on those papers as well. If this was Mycroft's idea of a joke why did he get John involved?

"Don't your worry Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said as she began to feed the baby. "I'll help out until you and John get settled with her. But remember I'm not her nanny."


	2. Adjusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock talk about their surprise daughter.

Sherlock sat in John's chair shaking his head. He called the adoption service and went through the ringer with them. They claimed everything was in order and they had in fact adopted Isabell. They couldn't find any problem with the paper work and that you couldn't just give a kid back.

Sherlock and John would have to show that they hadn't applied for adoption and the adoption agency had all the proof they did. It was just a big circle.

The worlds only consulting detective growled as he got off the phone. He looked at the couch. Isabell was sitting on the couch supported by pillows asleep. Mrs. Hudson had to step out and had left the baby with Sherlock.

His baby.

His and John's baby.

Their Daughter.

His daughter.

John's daughter.

A living breathing child. Oh god. This couldn't be happening.

He kept saying those words in his head over and over as if trying to make sense of them. He had no idea how John was going to take it. What would he say? Would he think Sherlock did it as some kind of freak experiment?

He looked at his phone. Still nothing from Mycroft. He hadn't expected a reply.

Footsteps on the stairs. Couldn't be Mrs. Hudson. She wouldn't be home for another hour. John!

He glanced at the clock. He was a bit early but those were John's footsteps.

What was he going to do? How would he explain it to John?

His heart began to race.

The door to the room opened and John walked in holding a carton of milk. He walked into the kitchen.

"Do I want to know what you are doing in here?" he asked seeing the fingers in beakers of soda. "Is that my laptop?"

He sighed hard and put the milk away.

"You got milk?" John asked putting his milk in as well. "Alright Sherlock what have you done? Did you break my laptop?"

Sherlock often used buying milk and much needed food as way to soften a blow. Sherlock didn't answer. He looked at his hands. Sherlock's silence was really scaring him. Something was wrong. John took that chance to look around.

Baby. On the couch. Small baby. Sleeping. This wasn't right.

"Sherlock," he said. "There's a baby on the couch. What is it doing here?"

"I don't know," Sherlock said throwing his hands in the air. "I thought I would redecorate. You know. A couple of throw pillows. A baby. What do you think?"

"Sherlock," John said narrowing his eyes at him. "Where did this baby come from?"

Sherlock didn't answer. He was clutching the papers in his hands. He handed them to John. John read them and then just stared at them.

"Is this a joke?" John said shaking the paper. "Because if it is it isn't funny Sherlock."

"I've been on the phone with them for a while," Sherlock said nodding to his phone. "It seems everything is in order. I didn't know anything about it. I decided to be nice and get milk. When I got back it was already here. I had nothing to do with it."

"Mycoft," John said. "Have you called him?"

"Of course," Sherlock growled. "But I've got no reply."

The little one was starting to stir.

"John what do we do when it wakes up?" Sherlock asked.

"Haven't you been taking care of it all day?" John asked.

"No," the consulting detective said. "Mrs. Hudson was. She agreed to help the first couple of days. I don't know anything about babies."

Sherlock felt as if he was watching a lion or some other wild animal. He wasn't moving. The little one's eyes fluttered opened. Perhaps if he stayed still and didn't make a sound it would leave him alone.

The child inhaled deeply before letting out a loud cry.

* * *

 

The next few days were like a train wreck in slow motion. Neither Sherlock nor John knew that much about rearing a child. Thank god for Mrs. Hudson.

Sherlock wouldn't stop texting Mycroft. He wanted to know what Mycroft's game was. And he hadn't given up getting through to those brain less people at the adoption agency.

Isabell was a full time job. John couldn't get maternity leave from work. Sherlock was considered a 'full time' parent because he didn't work.

The baby was left in Sherlock's care for most of the day. The poor man didn't really have a clue. He would have lost his mind if he hadn't been for Mrs. Hudson. It was mostly a feeling of being over whelmed. Once he calmed down and accepted the whole situation things were easier.

After a short time he realized it wasn't all that hard. Even though it had only been three days he was getting a routine going.

Isabell had taken over Sherlock's room. They hadn't bought a crib yet and John said it was too hard to take the baby up the stairs to his room all the time. So she slept with Sherlock in his bed. Sherlock would never admit it but he liked sleeping with the baby. He loved the feeling of her small body cuddling up next to him. He loved feeling her warm breath on his face.

At six when John got up for work the baby would wake up. John would change her, feed her, and lay her back down with Sherlock. Sherlock would wake up a short time later when the baby was hungry again. He would change her and feed her. Sherlock was usual up at night so he took care of her during the night as well.

No too hard. He could do it.

Sherlock wasn't really sure about the washing machine and drier so John did that when he got home from work. Isabell was going need to need new clothes soon. She hadn't come with many. Plus she seemed to go through them awful quick. She needed a crib as well. As much as Sherlock loved sleeping with the child he was scared he would roll on her.

Whenever the house was quiet and Isabell was asleep Sherlock would sit in the living room and wonder what the hell he was doing. He couldn't allow himself to get attached to a screaming ball of fat.

After all he wasn't going to keep her. As soon as he got things sorted with the adoption agency she was going back. There was no way he could raise a child. There was no way he and John could raise a child. They weren't even a couple.

He was so caught up with the baby he had forgotten about his work. He had actually forgotten. He couldn't remember the last time he forgot about his work. He didn't remember until he heard footsteps on the stairs.

Not Mrs. Hudson. She had agreed to go to the store to get formula for the baby. John wasn't due back from work for another three hours.

Lestrade!

In the rare case Sherlock didn't text Lestrade every five minutes he would come by the check on him. He worried about him. He feared he would turn back to drugs.

Damn! When was the last time he had texted him?

Knocking at the door.

Shit!

What would he say when he found out about Isabell?

"Who is it?" Sherlock called.

"Lestrade," came his familiar voice. "Can I come in?"

"Uh yes," Sherlock said looking around quickly to see if any baby things were lying around.

There was a baby blanket in John's chair. The car seat was sitting on the floor behind the same chair. There was no hiding there was a little one in the house. 

The door opened. Lestrade and Donovan walked in. Sherlock let out a little snot.

"Hey freak," Sally said smiling a little. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"I was concerned," Lestrade said sitting down on the couch. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

"Well I'm fine," he said sighed. "Anything good?"

"Yes in fact I have a nice little murder," Sally said. "You'll like it. Nice mess."

Shit. A good murder and he couldn't go. Mrs. Hudson wasn't around to watch the baby and John was at work. He couldn't take a baby to a crime scene. Could he?

"Come on," Lestrade said getting to his feet. "Let's go."

"I can't," Sherlock said almost in a whisper.

"I told you!" Donovan said. "He knows we need him so now he is playing damn games."

"Why not?" Lestrade asked ignoring Sally.

"I just can't," He said softly.

He didn't know how to tell them he couldn't go because he didn't have anyone to watch his kid.

"Is something wrong?" Greg asked concern in his eyes.

There was a long silence. It would have went on forever if it hadn't been for Isabell's sudden cry. Right on time for lunch. It was then that Greg noticed the baby things in the room. He took a deep breath. The whole thing was a lot to take in. 

"Is that what I think it is?" Sally said.

Sherlock didn't say anything. He just growled, got up, and disappeared back into his bedroom. The crying stopped a few moments later.

No one said anything as Sherlock walked into the kitchen, prepared a bottle, and sat down in his chair with the baby. It was only when Isabell locked onto the bottle and began to drink that someone finally spoke.

"Do I want to know where you got that freak?" Sally asked.

These people say John and him adopted her but they didn't. That was what he wanted to say but who would believe that. Adoption services don't make those kinds of mistakes. Mycroft had something to do with their 'mistake'.

"She's adopted," Sherlock said simply.

"You adopted a kid?" Lestrade asked in a shocked voice.

Lestrade didn't even think Sherlock liked kids.

"Yes," he said. "John and I did."

Lestrade looked truly shocked. This was coming out of nowhere.

"I need you for this case," Greg said. "Sally can watch her."

"I can what?" Donovan gasped. "That is not in my job description."

"Please," Lestrade said looking at her with pleading eyes. "Just stay here and watch her."

"Fine," she said holding out her hands. "What's her name?"

"Isabell," he said as the baby finished her bottle.

Sherlock stood up and met Donovan's eyes. He didn't know why but he didn't want to hand her over. He had promised himself he wouldn't get attached but he couldn't help it. Sally seemed to sense with his problem handing over the baby so she just took her.

He left the room and returned with her diaper bag. He sat it down. He couldn't help but feel nervous. Isaball almost never left his sight.

"Uh," he said unsure how to handle it. "Everything she needs is in here. She is a little low of formula. Mrs. Hudson will be back with more soon. If she falls asleep put her in my room on the bed. We haven't bought a crib yet."

Sherlock stood there looking at his daughter. No. Not his daughter. Her name was Isabell. He wasn't going to keep her. He couldn't let himself get attached.

"Bye," Donovan said in a slightly nicer tone sitting down on the couch. "She'll be fine with me freak."

Sherlock sighed wrapping his scarf around his neck. He followed Lestrade out of the flat. He quickly turned his head to steal one more look at Isabell before he shut he door. 


	3. coming to terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John must decide if they are going to keep the baby.

Sherlock tried to focus on the body in front of him. Woman. Twenty six years old. Married twice. No children. She liked pizza. Pizza with extra cheese. Smoked cigarettes.

That was as far as he had gotten because of Lestrade. He kept asking him questions.

"So," he said watching Sherlock. "She sure is a cute kid. When did you and John decide to adopt?"

"Kind of a spur of the moment thing," Sherlock explained still trying to focus.

No not just cigarettes. Marijuana smoker by the stains on the teeth. Ah. Also snorted drugs by the state of her nose.

"I'm happy for you Sherlock," he said. "I must admit I'm a bit surprised. I never thought you'd settle down."

"Heavy drug user," Sherlock said standing up. "Smoked and snorted. She meet her killer tonight during or after her dinner of extra cheese pizza. She is married but it isn't her first marriage. No children from either marriage. You might want to check up on the first husband. I don't believe it is the current husband. He seems to really care for her but her first husband was abusive."

"How in the world did you get all that?" Lestrade asked.

"She has stains on her teeth from smoking marijuana cigarettes and eating cheese pizza. The inside of her nose is badly burnt from snorting. She is wearing a wedding ring but you can clearly see the mark were another ring was there as well at one point. No children. At least there are no pictures of any in her wallet. Also there are scares on her body and the bones of her wrist are some what misshapen. They look as if they were broken and not tended to properly. She is wearing very nice jewelery and dressed well. No one with such a bad drug habit could keep such nice things. That means her husband buys them for her. He loves her despite everything."

"Alright," Lestrade said jotting it all down. "So we will check out all nearby pizza parlors and check on the ex-husband."

"Are we done here?" Sherlock asked standing up. "I wouldn't have come if I'd known it was so transparent."

"Look Sherlock," Lestrade said standing in his way. "I'm glad you have someone in your life but I hope you know what you are getting yourself into. John is a nice guy and Isabell is just a baby."

"What are you getting at?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"It's just," the inspector detective lowered his voice even though there was no one else in the room. "I don't mean to be rude but we both know what happens when you bite off more than you can chew."

Sherlock's eyes widened when he realized what Lestrade was saying.

"For you information I haven't touched anything in ages," he growled not raising his voice. "You know it."

"I know that and I'm proud of you," Lestrade said. "I just want it to stay that way."

Sherlock didn't respond to that. He pushed past Lestrade. He couldn't stand it when Lestrade decided to play Daddy.

"Sherlock. I just don't want you to forget what happened! I know I'll never forget it." Lestrade called. "Dammit! Come back here."

Sherlock ran to the front door of the house. He wasn't really running from Lestrade. He was running from the memories Lestrade was bringing back. The sun had been out when he went into the house. The sky had clouded and rain was starting to pour out of the sky. Damn British weather.

Lestrade was right behind him. He grabbed his coat before he could he slip out the door. Sherlock stopped in his tracks.

"I'm sorry," Lestrade said letting go of his coat. "I shouldn't have bought it up. I know you went through hell at Uni. I'm thinking about John as well. You know how messed up he was when you were dead."

"It's OK," Sherlock said not looking at him.

Sherlock looked up and was surprised to see Sally getting out of a cab with Isabell in her arms.

"She won't stop crying," she said holding her out to Sherlock. "She started about a minute after you left. I tried everything."

Sherlock took the child into his arms and wrapped her blanket tighter around her.

"Now," he said in a calm voice. "Enough of that. Papa is here."

Papa. He was Papa. At the sound of Sherlock's voice the child stopped crying. He smiled slightly looking down at his child. He didn't think babies got attached that quick. He found he liked it. He liked holding her in his arms. For the first time in his life he found himself wanting to be someone's Papa.

"Guess she just wanted Daddy," Sally said. "Or Mummy. I'm not really sure how that works. I mean I don't know which one of you does the dishes and which watches sports."

Sherlock gave her a dirty look before hailing a cab. He climbed into the cab with Isabell in his arms.

"Good luck with the case," he said with a smirk. "Two twenty one b baker street."

When Sherlock got home he wasn't surprised to see John in the kitchen putting away food. He looked as if he just got home. Man that man did like his food. Sherlock would never understand it.

"Where did you get off to?" John asked turning to face Sherlock.

"Case," he said sitting down on the couch. "Lestrade had a little murder for me."

"You took the baby to a crime scene?" John asked in a shocked voice.

"Sally was supposed to watch her. You must have just missed her," Sherlock explained. "I guess Isabell wouldn't stop crying."

John held a box of infant oatmeal in his hand. He stopped in the middle of putting it away and looked hard at Sherlock.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I thought a nice murder would perk you up. You look like someone canceled Christmas."

"John," he said. "There is something we need to talk about."

"What is it?" John asked in a confused voice sitting down in his chair.

"Isabell," he said. "We need to talk about her. John. I know we didn't apply for adoption. I know we aren't really a couple. I never thought I'd want kids. Yet, I've made up my mind about Isabell. I'm going to keep her."

John couldn't believe his ears. Sherlock wanted to keep a child that had been dumped on him.

"Are you sure?" he finally asked. "This isn't a puppy or a new lab kit. This is a human life. She'll be yours forever. Don't forget my name is on her papers as well. I should have some say in this."

"I know what I'm doing," he said in a strong voice. "If you wish to sign your rights to me I'll understand."

"Sign My rights?" he said shaking his head. "I don't know what the hell is going on around here anymore. All I know is I have a kid now as well. If you can think you can do this so I can. I'm not giving up my rights to anything. I...I guess I can be her Dad as well. We can make this work."

"I thought you'd say that," Sherlock said looking at the infant oatmeal in John's hands. "Already buying things for her?"

"Well," he said with a chuckle. "You got me. I got her some oatmeal and a couple other things. I couldn't resist. They have such cute things for babies."

He got up and went back to putting things away.

"If the adoption agency calls tell them it was a misunderstanding and that Isabell is in good hands," Sherlock said heading to his room. "I'm going to take a nap. I'll have her with me."

"Nap?" John asked in a confused voice turning to face Sherlock. "I don't think I've ever known you to take a nap."

No one was there. Sherlock had already slipped off into his room and shut the door. It seemed a bit strange to John. Perhaps he really tired. After all Isabell was a full time job. 

John grabbed a bag that was on the kitchen table and carried it into the living room. He sat down in his chair and removed a skein of pink yarn from the bag. He began to roll it into a ball.

Sherlock's cellphone rang. John sighed picking it up.

"Hello," came an important sounding male voice. "This is Thomas Senth. Is Sherlock Holmes or Dr. John Watson available?"

"This is John," John said still rolling up his yarn. "How can I help you?"

"It seems your...home partner has been calling our agency saying there was a problem with the child you adopted," he said.

"Oh," John said thinking fast on his feet. "Oh! I know what that was. Someone stole his Mobile. We actually just picked it up from the police. Someone called all kinds of people on it. Made a big mess."

"Well I'm sorry for you trouble," he said in a more relaxed tone. "So there are no problems with...Isabell?"

"No not at all," John said rolling the ball. "She is in wonderful hands."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Well I just wanted to check up on the situation. Well have a nice day Dr. Watson."

"You too," John said before hanging up the phone.

After a short time he finished rolling the ball. He took out a crochet needle and began going to work on a baby blanket. He would never like to admit out loud that he liked needle work. Something about it was relaxing. His mother taught him when he was child.

Sherlock's phone beeped. John grumbled as he looked at the message.

_**Mothercare - Oxford Street 515** _

_**Have fun. Everything is to be billed to me.** _

_**MH** _

Mycroft.

_**What the hell? All of a sudden you text. I want to talk to you.** _

_**JH** _

Another beep.

_**Can't talk. Busy** _

_**MH** _

John growled throwing the phone at the couch. Damn Mycroft. How did he know they had decided to keep the little one? He was always one step ahead of them. Sometimes John hated that man.


	4. Chapter 4

The following night was the first night so far that John and Sherlock had been unable to get Isabell to sleep.

Around midnight she woke up crying and wouldn't go back to sleep. Sherlock slept through her crying at first. He was really tired he could sleep through anything.

John woke up and took her into his arms. He changed her. She didn't stop crying. He fed her. She stopped crying while she ate and then started again. He burped her. She wouldn't stop crying. John's head was starting to spin.

Sherlock stumbled out of his room and into the living room.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked with a yawn.

"I don't know," John said rocking her. "I've tried everything."

"Let me see her," he said taking the child. "You go and try to get some sleep. You have to go to work in the morning."

"I can't leave you with her like this," he said sitting down on the couch. "It wouldn't be fair."

Her crying got softer but she didn't stop.

"I talked to the adoption agency," John said. "I told them everything was alright with Isabell. Mycroft texted right away. He said something about a store were we could buy things for the baby on his card."

"Sounds good," Sherlock said rocking his daughter. "We can go after you get out of work tomorrow."

Sherlock frowned looking at the little one. Usually she went right to sleep in his arms.

"Something is really bothering her," he said lifting her close to his face. "John can you look in her ears. Maybe she has an ear infection or something. I believe that is common in small infants."

He knew he was right. A lot of little kids came into the office with ear infections. John retrieved a small flash light from his room and peeked in her ears. She screamed when he tried to touch them.

"Oh yes," he said. "They are starting to get red."

"Hold her for a minute," Sherlock said handing the baby off. "I need to get dressed."

"Are we taking her to the emergency room?" John asked already getting her jacket on her.

"Well," Sherlock said banging around in his room. "You don't need to come. I mean you have to go to work."

"Nonsense," John said. "I'm coming."

A few minutes later there were outside and hailing a cab. John suggested they call emergency but Sherlock shook his head saying it would be just as good to take a cab.

The cab driver could tell something was wrong and didn't muck about getting them to St. Bard's.

Sherlock and John got out and walked into the emergency room. It didn't look too busy. Sherlock went up to the front desk while John took a seat.

"Hello," Sherlock said. "My daughter needs to be seen."

"Alright," the girl said handing him a clipboard. "Just fill this...Sherlock!"

Sherlock knew the girl. Her name was Kelly. He had run into her a few times during his trips to St. Bard's. Damn. Why did people always remember him? It just made his life hard.

"I didn't know you had kids," she said looking at the baby. "Aw! She is adorable. Who is her Mummy?"

"Shes adopted. I think she has an ear infection," Sherlock said.

"Well," she said waving to the baby. "It should be a quick wait."

"John," Sherlock said simply nodding to the baby and diaper bag.

John got up and took the still whining baby and bag.

"Oh here," Kelly said pulling out a small stuffed cow from behind the counter. "She can have this."

"Thank you," John said sitting back down.

He set the baby bag down on the floor. Isabell cuddled up against him. He used the cow as a make shift pillow.

Sherlock sat down and began filling out the forms. He was trying his best not to look at Kelly. She was looking at him with side ways smile. She picked up the phone and began to talk. No doubt she was talking about him. He and John would be the talk of the hospital for a while.

"Sherlock," John said softly.

"What is it?" Sherlock said filling out the form.

"Never mind," the doctor said looking at the child.

"Is something wrong?" Sherlock asked giving him his full attention.

"I love this child," John said. "I actually love her. I look at her and think that I would do anything for her."

"Isn't that normal?" he asked. "Isn't that the way parents are supposed to feel?"

"For some reason I get the idea I get the idea you didn't have a happy child hood," John said with a little snort.

"Where in the world did you get that idea?" Sherlock asked in a surprised voice.

John sighed shaking his head.

The two of them sat there in silence unsure of what to say to each other.

"John," Sherlock finally said. "I know you've always been curious about my child hood. I'm sure it didn't escape your sight that my mother didn't attend my funeral."

"Yes that did confuse me a bit," John admitted. "I assumed she was dead."

For a second John thought Sherlock was actually going to open up to him. Sadly it was cut short when a doctor appeared to take them back to a room.

Surprisingly Isabell had barley made a sound. The doctor took the clipboard from Sherlock and looked it over.

Sherlock sat down in one of the chairs and John sat down in the other. Isabel was starting to fuss again.

"So the little ones ears are bothering her huh?" the doctor said picking up a tool.

She learned over and peeked in the girl's ear.

"Pretty red," she said. "I don't see any wax. It says she was adopted. Do you have her paper work?"

Sherlock dug out a wad of paper from his pocket and handed it to the doctor. She looked over it.

"Well," she said. "This is strange. It says here there are no medical concerns but it says she failed both UNHS test the doctors did."

"What's that?" Sherlock asked in a confused voice.

"Universal Newborn Hearing Screening," the doctor explained. "She failed completely. That is odd for them not to mention it."

"Are you trying to tell us she is deaf?" John asked in a shocked voice.

"No," she said shaking her head. "These test aren't one hundred percent. When they test her she could have had an ear infection or wax."

That still bothered John. Children didn't usually fail that test.

"Alright," she said sighing. "I'll write a prescription for the antibiotics and some ear drops. You'll want to buy some infant Tylenol for her fever if she gets one. I'll call you after I've set a follow up appointment to have her hearing tested again. The test could have been messed up. It happens."

She took out a prescription pad and began writing in a long scrawl. She handed Sherlock the paper.

Isabell began to wail loudly.

"Aw Izzy," John said rocking her. "She's bound to be hungry by now."

John thanked the doctor as he and Sherlock left the room. Sherlock had a strange look on his face. John handed Sherlock the baby and went off to make a bottle of formula.

Sherlock sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting area and rocked Isabell until she calmed down a bit.

"You can hear me," he whispered close to his face. "I know you can Isabell. You can hear Daddy can't you? Daddy. Huh. To tell you the truth Isabell I never thought anyone would call me that."

John filled the bottle quickly and raced back.

"You know Isabell," he stopped walking when he heard Sherlock talking softly to the child. "I may not have asked for you but I'm really starting to like you. You're going to be a smart one. I can tell. Just promise me one thing little one. Just promise you won't run off with the first cute boy that turns your head."

The baby gave small giggle. John couldn't stop himself from giggling himself. Sherlock looked up at where John stood.

"I knew you were there the whole time John," Sherlock said getting to his feet. "Ten for style minus two for stealth."

"Sherlock!" came a too familiar voice.

"Oh no," John said when he say Molly coming around a corner.

"Oh my goodness," she said as she got closer. "Kelly called me. I was hoping I wouldn't miss you."

"Hello Molly," Sherlock said giving her the smallest smile his face could form.

He might owe her a lot for helping him disappear but that didn't mean he had to be nice. He liked her enough but she just had a lot of energy. 

"She is so adorable," Molly said. "When you get photos made up I want one."

"Of course Molly," John said trying to be polite. "I'd love to stay and chat but Isabell has an ear infection and I need to go to work in the morning."

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I know you two want to get home. I really just wanted to tell Sherlock I have something very interesting in to morgue. It came in yesterday."

"What is interesting about it?" Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well," she said. "It's odd. I'll send you some pictures on your mobile."

"Sounds good," Sherlock said and turned to go.

"Thank you," John said quickly before they turned and left.

"Ah!" came Isabell's loud cry.

John had fallen asleep on the sofa as soon as they got home. Sherlock had taken Isabell to his bed and fell asleep quickly.

John got to his feet, made a bottle, grabbed her ear drops, and stumbled into Sherlock's room. They wouldn't be able to fill her prescription until the morning but they had picked up some over the counter drops.

He had no idea what time it was as he changed her, gave her the drops, and put her bottle to her mouth.

He didn't even have the energy to get back to the couch to fed her. He got into Sherlock's bed. He didn't think the detective would mind. He laid down and propped the bottle up with a pillow.

Isabell looked so peaceful sucking on the bottle. She clung to that stuffed cow. She didn't have a care in the world. John wasn't exactly sure when he feel asleep.


	5. shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John go shopping for little Isabell.

For the first time in years John felt like his mother must have been a saint. How the hell had she put up with sleepless nights with two kids? His father left when he was young and his mother had done it on her own. She never raised her voice at them and she never hit them. She never once spanked them for any of the crazy stuff they did.

John was lying awake in Sherlock's bed. He hadn't discussed it with Sherlock but he figured when they got the crib it would go in Sherlock's room. He knew at some point they would have to cross the road of Isabell having her own room but he didn't want to deal with that yet.

He glanced at the clock. Nearly six. No point in trying to go back to sleep. He needed to get up, get ready for work, and drop Isabell's prescription off at the pharmacy. Then when he did get home Sherlock and him where going to have go shopping for the baby. She needed things and judging from Mycroft's text he had a shopping spree of sorts set up for them.

He went out to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Milk. He was happy to see there was still some left in the frig. He took his coffee into the living room and sat down in his chair.

"You look dead on your feet," came a voice. "But I guess that is to be expected."

John was shocked to see Mycroft standing in the living room.He nearly dropped his coffee.

"I was wondering when you were going to get up," he said looking at his watch.

"What in god's name are you doing here?" John snapped. "Sherlock has been trying to get hold of you for days."

"I'm sure he has," Mycroft said smiling at him. "How is little Isabell?"

"Sick," John said drinking his coffee. "As if you didn't know. I'm sure you know we took her to hospital last night because of an ear infection."

"Very quick John," he said.

"Why did you do it?" the good doctor asked. "Why did you give us this child?"

"As much as Sherlock doesn't like to admit it he is the family type," he explained. "He always wanted a large happy family. We always want what we didn't have. After what happened this is the least I could do."

John tried not to let Mycroft's comments get to him but the man had the habit of rubbing him the wrong way.

"Oh you mean nearly getting him killed?" John asked. "Oh yes. He does have a bit of a chip on his shoulder about that."

"This is my way of saying I'm sorry," Mycroft said glancing at his watch again.

"You late to start a war or something?" he asked rolling his eyes.

"I would have loved to talk to Sherlock but I am running late," he said already headed for the door. "Oh yes. You don't need to get ready for work. I got your leave pushed through."

John was grateful for that. He tried not to show it.

"John," he said turning to face him. "Sherlock and you were made for each other. If there is a god, which I doubt, he knew what he was doing putting you two in each others paths. Get the shopping done to day."

Without another word Mycroft slipped out the door. John groaned getting to his feet. He knew he didn't have to go to work but he couldn't go back to sleep. Once he was awake he was awake for a while. He put his coffee cup on the kitchen table, when up stairs and got dressed. He would go to the corner store get milk and something for breakfast. If the pharmacy was open he would drop off Isabell's script.

"As much as Sherlock doesn't like to admit it he is the family type. He always wanted a large happy family. We always want what we didn't have. After what happened this is the least I could do."

Those words for the first Sherlock's heard as he opened his eyes. He could hear Mycroft in the flat. No doubt he had come to explain his actions. Sherlock thought about getting up for a moment but then decided it might be best to stay out of this one. John could stand his own ground.

"Oh you mean nearly getting him killed? Oh yes. He does have a bit of a chip on his shoulder about that."

John. He smirked at that one. No wonder everyone thought they were a couple. John was always right there to defend and protect him. He was like an attack dog.

"This is my way of saying I'm sorry."

"You late to start a war or something?"

No doubt Mycroft had looked at his watch. Sherlock let out a chuckle at one. John was starting to sound more and more like him every day. He reached over and shut the door. He decided to let them have their privacy.

He looked over and saw Isabell was still sleeping. Thank god. Sherlock got to his feet and got dressed. He loved Isabell but he was grateful she was sleeping. The poor dear seemed to feel so miserable. The sleep would do her good.

By the time he wondered out the kitchen he didn't see John. He noticed a pot of coffee was on. He got himself a cup. He wasn't sure why but he even put a slice of toast in the toaster. Toast was one of the few things he would eat for breakfast. He noticed most of the bread was gone. He would have to get more. He knew he had to stop putting it all on John. John did work all day. Of course he did too. More than usual lately. Now that they had a child things were going to have to change a bit. A stocked kitchen and clean flat were going to be important with a child in the house.

He waited until the toast was done. He put butter on it and then headed into the living room. He had just settled down on the couch when John came in. John put the food away in the kitchen.

"What did Mycroft have to say for himself?" Sherlock asked.

John looked confused for a second as he headed into the living room. He was sure Sherlock was asleep during Mycroft's visit.

"Oh," John said sitting down. "You heard that huh?"

"Only part of it," he said taking a bite of the toast.

"Not much," John lied. "He just wanted to see how we were doing."

"You look cute when you lie," he said. "Your eyes get all funny."

John's rolled his eyes. Cute?

"Look I'm not mad at Mycroft about anything," Sherlock confessed. "Perhaps it worked out for the best."

"I don't have to go in today," John explained. "Mycroft got me my leave."

There was a beeping sound coming from Sherlock's mobile phone.

"Why is my mobile in the corner of the room?" he asked getting up to fetch it.

"I got mad and took it out on the phone," John explained with a chuckle.

"You got mad so the phone took a pounding?" he asked going through his messages.

"The phone had it coming," John said.

The two of them began to laugh like they hadn't in a long time.

"Mycroft re-send a text," Sherlock explained.

 **Mothercare - Oxford Street 515 Have fun. Everything is to be billed to me.** MH

Sherlock read it out loud.

"I'm going to see if Mrs. Hudson is up. I'm sure she wouldn't mind watching her while we get some shopping done," Sherlock explained.

"She is not her nanny," John tried to him but he was already gone.

John shook his head as he heard Sherlock calling her. Mrs. Hudson gladly agreed to watch Izzy. John felt bad for constantly expecting her to help them. He would try to get her money for it later. Of course he knew she wouldn't take it.

The two of them had got through every "if she cries do this-" they could think of. Mrs. Hudson assured them she knew what she was doing and rushed them out of the door.

The placed looked so big as they pulled up in the cab.

"Now," Sherlock said as they got out. Since this is on Mycroft's bill go nuts. Get whatever you want. Let's call this our revenge."

"No problem," John said as they stepped inside.

They were greeted by a young perky lady who acted as if she had about eight cups of coffee.

"You must be the Holmes!" She said smiling. "I've followed the stories for years."

John started to protest at being called a Holmes but then decided against it. It wasn't worth the energy. Even though he wouldn't admit it he kind of liked the ring of it.

"Now everything is set up," she explained. "You just get whatever you want and it is to go on Mycroft Holmes' credit card. Now what do you boys need?"

"Everything from the bottom up," Sherlock said. "She really needs a crib."

"OK," she said smiling. "Are you looking for just a crib or a three in one?"

"A what?" he asked looking at John in confusion.

"A three in one means it can turn into a normal bed," John explained. "They really are popular now."

"Well that sounds good," Sherlock said. "Why don't you just show us. And we don't want some cheap thing that will break. I want something that will last. Something you could pass down."

Pass down? John's eyes widened. Was Sherlock already thinking of another kid?

"Of course," she said. "We have some really nice things."

She started walking and Sherlock and John followed after her. At first John felt out of a place in the store. There were lots of women, some of them already with kids, but not many men. Then something caught his eye.

"Look," he said holding up a crib sheet set. "Strawberry shortcake."

The lady and Sherlock stopped and turned to look at him.

"Strawberry what?" Sherlock asked.

"Strawberry shortcake," John explained. "It was on during the eighties. She doesn't look the same anymore. My sister used to watch this."

"Whatever you like John," he said chuckling slightly. "I don't want her raised to be a poodle though."

"This was a good show," John said shaking the sheet set at him.

"Well,"the woman said. "We have a whole line of Strawberry shortcake things here. I can help you find more if you want."

"Sounds good to me," John said as they starting walking towards the cribs again.

Sherlock slowed down to walk next to him.

"Strawberry shortcake?" he asked. "The girls name is Strawberry? Isn't that a bit sexist?"

"Sexist?" John asked confused.

"Yes," he said. "Isn't that like when men call women cupcakes and things like that? Doesn't that normally get men slapped?'

John shook his head knowing it was going to be a very interesting shopping trip.


	6. missing family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family member shows up.

Mrs. Hudson placed the child in Sherlock's bedroom and covered the baby up. The child gave a little whimper. She hoped that they would get back soon with the medicine. The over the counter ear drops weren't working that well.

Winter was going to come in like a lion. It was going to be a cold one. A chilly wind slipped in under the half open window. She slid it shut. She hoped the snow wouldn't come for a while yet.

She couldn't but worry as she went into the kitchen.

She loved Sherlock and John they were like her own sons. Yet, she wasn't sure they were ready for the life long commitment that came with the child.

Sherlock was doing surprisingly well. Yet, it still worried her. She knew how Sherlock was. He got bored easy and she was worried he would get bored with the baby. She needed something to do to take her mind off of it.

Dishes needed to be done, the living room needed to be clean, and Mrs. Hudson couldn't resist doing it.

The mess drove her crazy. She wished Sherlock was cleaner. She knew John would try to clean and Sherlock would go behind him making it was worse mess. Sometiimes she swore he did it out spite. They were going to have to keep the place clean once the baby started crawling.

She had the dishes washed, dried, and put away when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

She walked out the kitchen thinking it was Sherlock and John. She was shocked to see a woman standing in the living room.

At first Mrs. Hudson didn't recognize her. After a minute of staring at her she realized who he was looking at.

"Aaliyah!" She said pulling the woman in for a hug.

"Oh Mrs. Hudson," she said returning to hug. "It's been too long. How are you?"

"Fine," she said sitting down on the couch. "Sit."

Aaliyah sat down next to her and sat there in silence.

"I guess you heard about Isabell huh?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Mycroft sent me a picture on my phone," she said looking at her hands. "I wanted to see her. I wanted to see her while Sherlock was out."

"They're out shopping," Mrs. Hudson said getting up. "Come on. She is sleeping in his room."

Aaliyah followed her. She smiled when she saw the baby curled up in the blankets. She actually looked a bit like Sherlock. Her hair was starting to come in dark brown. Her eyes were still blue and she hoped they wouldn't change. She was clutching a stuffed cow in her arms. She was already growing so fast.

"She is amazing," she said sitting down on the bed. "So pretty."

Aaliyah looked as if she was going to cry. She ran a hand down her cheek. Mrs. Hudson smiled sitting down next to her.

"Is he doing good?" she asked the older woman.

"He's the perfect father," Mrs. Hudson explained. "He takes care of her while John is at work."

Aaliyah took out her phone and took a few pictures of the baby. She got to her feet.

"Don't go," Mrs. Hudson said putting a hand out. "Stay. Sherlock wants to see you. I know he does."

Aaliyah sighed leaning against the wall. She closed her eyes and for a moment she didn't say anything.

"Come on," Mrs. Hudson said walking to her. "He can put the past behind him. He doesn't hate you. Let's go and watch telly. You aren't going anymore."

Aaliyah didn't say anything. She simply took Mrs. Hudson's hand and allowed her to take her to the living room.

John was dead on his feet by the time Sherlock and him got home. They had done some serious shopping and had to stand in line to get Isabell's medicine. He never thought in his life that he would spend eight hundred pounds on a crib. It was very nice though and would last a long time. John wasn't sure if he ever wanted more kids but if he did the crib would last through it. 

The store was going to deliver what they had bought in a few hours. He was too tired to think of putting the crib together when he got there. All the clothes would need to be washed. The dresser needed to be put together. Maybe he could talk Sherlock into doing that.

Sherlock paused when they got to the door of the sitting room. John stood still next to him.

He could hear two voices. One was Mrs. Hudson's voice and the other was one John didn't know.

His friend took a deep breath and pushed the door open. From the look on his face John guessed he knew whose voice it was.

"Hi Sherlock," the strange woman said from her seat on the couch.

"Hello," Sherlock said in a dry voice. "I take it Mycroft told you where Isabell was."

"Yes," she said simply.

"Who is this?" John asked in a confessed voice. "I can't handle anymore surprises."

"My name is Aaliyah Holmes," she said getting to her feet. "You must be John."

"Yes," he said shaking her hand. "Are you his mother?"

"Yes," She said smiling at him. "I'm his mother. I had to see the baby and meet you. I never thought he'd settle down."

"Give me her medicine," Sherlock said holding out his hand. "I'll give it to her."

John fished the medicine out of his pocket and gave it to Sherlock. Sherlock disappeared into his bedroom.

"I told you," Aaliyah said turning to Mrs. Hudson. "I have to go."

"Come down stairs and I'll give you a cup of tea," Mrs. Hudson said standing up. "Just give him a moment."

"I'm so happy to meet you," she said smiling at John. "I wish it could have been on better terms."

John didn't know what to do or say as they headed out of the room. He walked to Sherlock's bedroom.

He leaned against the door frame and looked at Sherlock. The man had the medicine dropper in his hands and was giving it to the baby.

"What's the deal?" John asked. "She comes to see you and our baby and you give her the cold shoulder."

"You don't understand," Sherlock whispered putting the medicine away.

"Then tell me," John said sitting down on the bed. "You can tell me anything. At least I believe you can tell me anything."

"You have to promise you can't tell anymore," he said in a deep tone.

"Of course I won't tell anymore," the good doctor said placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

He knew it had to something serious if Sherlock was making him promise not to repeat it anyone. He would never go back on his word.

"Mycroft and I are only half brothers," Sherlock confessed. "My father wasn't my father if you know what I mean. I found out when I was teenager. "

"She had an affair?" John said it as a question but didn't expect Sherlock to answer.

"Messed up my whole life," Sherlock said.

John didn't know what to say. That was something that would be hard to talk about with anyone.

"I don't blame for you being mad Sherlock," John said getting up. "But sometimes its best to forgive."

Sherlock didn't say anything. He looked at the child in his arms.

"I'm going to go move things around in the kitchen and living room," John said. "I want to make sure we can get the baby's things in here."

John sighed looking back at Sherlock. He knew the great detective was in a lot of pain and he needed to be left alone. He had some work do it and in a way he needed to be distracted from the information he had just gotten. It explained so much about Sherlock.


	7. Chapter 7

Two hours later Sherlock was in a much better mood. His mother had slipped out without a word and John guessed that was for the best.

When the truck from the store arrived John had been in shock as to how many boxes were unloaded. He hadn't realized they bought that much stuff. There were just so many things they had needed. They got a bit carried away. That is easy to do when someone else is paying for it.

John opened box after box going through them. Sherlock was dragging the box containing the crib into his bedroom.

"Need help with that?" John called as he found the swing.

"I've got it John," Sherlock called back. "I've saved nations I think I can put a crib together."

John snapped the swing together and stuck the batteries in the back. He picked Isabell up from the couch and placed her inside. He turned it on and it began to slowly swing.

She made a little noise almost like a cat and relaxed into the swing. She had her toy cow's ear in her mouth. It was almost impossible to get that stuffed cow away from her.

"Hi there little princess," he said smiling at her. "How is that? Like your new swing?"

"This is an evil contraption," Sherlock yelled from the other room.

John knew it was only a matter of time before Sherlock lost his mind with the crib. Hum. He hadn't lasted that long. John walked into the bedroom and looked inside.

Sherlock had dumped everything out onto the floor and was sitting in the middle of the mess. He had the instructions in his hand and was going over them.

"This doesn't make sense," Sherlock said. "If that part goes there then there is no where for the other end to go."

"Let me see Sherlock," he said holding out his hand. "No shame in asking for help."

Sherlock didn't say anything but he did hand the paper over. John looked at and realized at once Sherlock had made an amateur mistake.

"It's upside down," he said and turned it the other way round.

"No it isn't," Sherlock said yanking the paper back. He looked at it a long minute. "OK. It was upside down. If you breath a word of this to anyone I'll have you framed for murder."

"Of course," John said sitting down next to him. "Now lets see how this goes together."

Fifteen minutes later the crib was together and John was digging around for the Strawberry shortcake sheet set. Sherlock would never admit it out loud but putting things together had never been his strong point. He never enjoyed Legos as a kid. 

Sherlock took Izzy out of the swing and took her into the kitchen to get a fresh bottle.

"John," Sherlock said as he mixed up the formula. "Why have you been sleeping in my bed?"

"Uh," John said as he walked by with some of the new clothes. "Easier. It's hard to go up and down with Izzy."

"Why don't we just share? You should just move your stuff in." Sherlock asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "We'll have to anyway in a couple of months when she needs her own room."

Izzy took hold of the bottle right away. He took her over to the swing and laid her in it. He propped the bottle up with the cow.

He walked back over to John who had been silent the whole time. He closed the distance between them until they were less than six inches apart. He would never admit it but he was scared out of his mind. He had no idea how John would respond to what he was about to try.

"I know I told you I was married to my work but it has become an open relationship," he said. "I...I don't really know how to say this. Things have changed John."

John's heart was racing as Sherlock closed the distance between them. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know if he wasn't supposed to say anything.

Perhaps silence was best.

Sherlock was holding his position only inches from his face. He didn't make the final move that would cause them to experience their first kiss.

Sometimes John forgot how native Sherlock was about somethings. He was waiting for John. He wanted him to make the move. Part of him wondered if Sherlock had ever been kissed.

John slowly leaned in and sealed their lips together. The second they met the awkwardness of the moment disappeared. He leaned all his weight into him and just let go.

Sherlock had been kissed in high school. Just a couple of quick ones from girls who thought they could rope him in. He was sure it must have happened at Uni but he couldn't remember them.

This was something unlike anything he had felt before. This was the most intimate moment he had ever had. He didn't want it to end.

John's mouth was open and his tongue was pressing at his lips. That was completely new. He let his mouth open and he felt his mouth invade by John's tongue.

He couldn't repress the moan that slipped through his open lips.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity they separated.

"That was amazing," John panted leaning against the wall.

"I've never done anything like that," Sherlock confessed.

"You've never been kissed?" John asked trying to hide his surprise.

"Not like that," he said smiling at him. "Not with...not with tongue."

"Are you really a virgin?" John asked.

"Why are you asking that?" Sherlock asked feeling a bit exposed.

"Well Mycroft said you didn't know things about sex so I assumed you were a virgin," John explained.

"Yes," Sherlock said. "I'm not ashamed of it."

"You don't have any reason to be," John said quickly. "I wasn't saying it because it was a bad thing. I think it is sexy that I'll be your first. I...I just wanted to know because I didn't want to...well to take this too far too quickly."

"Don't worry about it John," he said putting an arm around him. "I know you. I know you won't rush me in to anything."

"So...," John said with a chuckle. "I guess we really are a couple now."

"Oh my god I almost forget," Sherlock said taking out his phone. "Molly said she had something at the morgue she wanted to show me. She sent a picture early but I didn't look at it."

John smiled as Sherlock slipped out from around him. Same old Sherlock.

"Can you watch Izzy?" Sherlock asked looking at the phone. "This looks interesting."

"Of course," John said sitting down on the couch. "You go. You need the fun."

"I thought I just had fun," Sherlock said with a chuckle putting away his phone.

"Don't stay out too late and maybe you can have some more when you get home," John said turning on the telly.

Sherlock smirked at him before he slipped out the door.

–

The picture of the body Molly sent him looked perfectly normal. Too perfect. There didn't seem to be any damage to it. There didn't seem to be any reason for the woman to be dead. Molly said in the text that it was something in the woman's pocket that caught her attention. Of course she didn't send a picture of that. That would be giving too much away and Sherlock liked the mystery.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as he entered the morgue. "I got caught up. Now tell me what was in her pocket."

"Only this," Molly said holding up a small brown bottle.

Most people wouldn't have given it a second notice. They would have just wrote it off as a pill bottle or something to hold herbs. Yet, this bottle brought make a wave of memories. It looked just like the bottle from 'a study in pink' as John had labeled it.

"How did she die?" Sherlock asked looking at the bottle.

"Suicide," Molly said. "We're still waiting on the test to see what it was. I thought that the bottle looked very familiar."

"Have you called the police?" Sherlock asked.

"Her suicide was of course reported," Molly said. "I found the bottle after it was reported. I wanted talk to you before I called them."

"Call them," John said handing the bottle back. "I think we have a copy cat on our hands. I have to get home. Call them!"

Sherlock didn't think he ever ran faster as he took off out of the hospital. A flood of 'what ifs' were flooding his brain. What if Moriarty lived though his 'death' and was doing this to get his attention? What if it was a copy cat trying to get attention?

Whatever it was. Sherlock had to get home to make John and the baby were safe.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as Sherlock left Izzy began to cry hard. She wasn't used to being left alone with him.

"Aw dear," he said picking her up. "Daddy will back later. Let's get a book. We bought a bunch for you."

John carried her into the bedroom to fetch a book. He sat down on the bed with her. He held her close in his arms and opened the hard plastic book. It had pictures of farm animals and buttons to press next to each animal.

"This is a cow," John explained pointing to the cow. "He looks just like yours."

He pushed the button and it made a loud mooing noise. Izzy let out the smallest giggle and gave a hint off a smile.

"And this a pig," he said pushing the next button. "Oink Oink says the pig."

"This is a dog," John explained and pushed the next button. "Bow wow? What dog says bow wow?"

Izzy didn't seem to mind that the book was wrong. She smiled at the noise. John gave his daughter a hard look. He loved that little girl. He knew Sherlock did as well. He couldn't help but think of Sherlock. He knew his friend was in a lot of pain over his mother. Of course he couldn't blame him.

Yet, part of him wondered why she had suddenly come into the picture. She must have heard about Isabell and wanted to see her. Strange that she didn't come to her own son's funeral but she would come to see his baby. Something about it wasn't adding up. He wouldn't bring it up to Sherlock. If Sherlock wanted to talk about his mother John would be there to listen but he wouldn't bring her up.

Isabell was looking at the book as if waiting for the magic book to make noise. John chuckled as he pressed the button for the rooster. She giggled at the noise.

He decided not to think about it. It wouldn't do him any good. He decided to focus on Isabell for the time being.

Sherlock jumped into the first cab he met with a racing heart. He knew he was being stupid. He knew it couldn't be happening. Well, it hoped it wasn't happening.

All he could think about was getting home to John and Isabell. He thought about calling them but when he looked at his phone he saw the battery was dying.

Silly. Stupid. ridiculous. absurd

He tried to think about something else. If he thought about it he would do insane.

His mother. Perhaps thinking about his mother would get his mind off his troubles.

Why did she have to show up? Why did she show up thinking everything was going to be ok? His mother was always the type of person who thought if you ignored a problem it would just go away.

He knew she hadn't been to his funeral. Was she feeling guilty about not attending the funeral? Was she finally trying to repent for the pain she had put him through. Perhaps she just wanted to see Isabell. That might have been the reason she came while he was out and slipped out when he arrived. It seemed to him she had been more excited about seeing Isabell than him. That caused him pain.

The wheels in his head were turning but he couldn't get to the root of it. He couldn't figure it out.

Perhaps John was right. Maybe it was time to forgive. After all it had been many years. Perhaps he would give it a shoot, if his mother was willing, for the sake of the family. He did want his daughter to have a relationship with his grandmother. He knew that was the normal thing to do.

He would have to think on it.

"Here you go," the cabby said stopping the car.

Sherlock didn't even realize they were there. Damn. He was too lost in his thoughts. He paid the driver and climbed out of the cab.

Quickly he remembered the reason he was in such a hurry in the first place. He rushed up to the sitting room and looked around. Neither John nor Isabell were in side. He rushed to his bedroom and stopped just outside the door.

"Alright," John said and there was some shuffling sounds. "Here we go. This is a cat. Cats go meow."

Sherlock smirked leaning against the wall. They were alright. Perhaps he was being flat out silly. Maybe he was so scared of losing his new family that he was panicking over nothing.

"I know you're out there," John said after a moment. "Come on in."

Sherlock shook his head. Perhaps he was teaching John a bit too well. He walked into the room. Isabell and John were sitting on the bed. There was a small pile of books next to them. He sat down next to them.

"I'm surprised to see you back so quick," John said turning the page in the book. "Izzy got fussy after you left so we started looking at books. Some of these have the animal noises all messed up."

"What do you expect John?" Sherlock asked picking up one of the books. "Bad writers I guess."

"So whatever Molly had must not have been that interesting huh?" John asked as Isabell began to cry.

"I'll take her," Sherlock said taking the little one. "She must been hungry. I'm going to try giving her the oatmeal. I don't think that formula is feeling her up."

John noticed Sherlock was avoiding his question. Sherlock walked out of the bedroom and placed Isabell in her new highchair. He got the box down from the cabinet and began to read the instructions. John followed him.

"Sherlock," John said softly. "If something is wrong I want to know about. How many times must I tell you. I want to share your troubles."

"A woman was brought in," Sherlock explained as he prepared a small amount of oatmeal. "She had something in her pocket and I think I overreacted to it."

"What was it?" John asked sitting down.

"A bottle," Sherlock explained pulling a chair up to the high chair. "I thought it looked like the bottle the cabby used."

"The cabby?" John asked shaking his head. "The killer cabby. You think we have another killer cabbie on our hands and I have to pull it out of you."

Sherlock didn't say anything as he gave Isabell a small spoonful of oatmeal. She ate it very quickly. John got up from his seat and walked over to Sherlock. He put his arms around neck.

"Sherlock," he said kissing the top of his head. "Don't worry. No matter what Isabell and me are going to be fine."

"I know," Sherlock said simply.

"I'm going to start something to eat," John said pulling away from him. "And you are going to eat?"

John barley had the chicken on when there was knock at the half open sitting room door.

"Come in!" Sherlock said still feeding the little one.

"It's me," Lestrade said walking into the room. "I got a call from Molly. She said that you were pretty upset."

"I over reacted," the great detective said as it seemed Isabell was finally full.

He pulled her out of the high chair and put her in her swing. He set her to swinging before heading to made up a bottle.

"You had right to react the way you did," Lestrade explained. "It was the same poison."

"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked giving the bottle to Isabell.

He used her ever present cow to hold it up. He would be glad when she could hold her own bottle. He turned to Lestrade with an unbelieving face.

"Yes," Lestrade said nodding. "I would say we have a copy cat on our hands but we never released the name of the poison. This is someone with inside knowledge."

"Is it possible that..." John started his sentence but he didn't dare finish it.

He knew better to say that man's name in front of Sherlock.

"Moriarty," Sherlock growled. "How can that man be alive?"

"He'll come after you," John said turning off the stove. "You know he will."

"Not just you Sherlock," Greg said. "And you know. He'll come for John and Isabell. I can put you three in a secure location."

"There is no such thing if he is on the case," Sherlock said sitting down. "I'm just as safe here as anywhere else."

"Think of someone besides yourself for a change," Lestrade snapped. "You're got a boyfriend and kid to think about."

"Maybe we should go," John said. "I mean. I should have some say in this. He could come in here anytime."

"Perhaps you should take Isabell and go stay as Mycroft's place," Sherlock stated. "He has a nice place and is almost never there."

"I'm not going anywhere without you," John said.

"Can I see your phone?" Sherlock asked holding out his hand. "Mine is dead."

John didn't say anything but handed him the phone anyway. Sherlock typed out a text to Mycroft.

**I know you know why I'm sending this. Any chance I can use your apartment a few days**

**SH**

There was a loud pause where no one said anything. Then there was a beep from his phone.

**Of course. I know you have a key. I'll have them give you one in case you've lost it. I'll send a car in a hour. Tell John I approve of him making you come as well.**

**MH**

"We're all going," Sherlock said handing back the phone to John. "Now is everyone happy?"

"Couldn't be better," Greg said headed for the door. "I'll call you if they're any leads. I don't want you chasing this one on your own."

"Thank you," John said as soon as Greg was gone. "I wouldn't have felt right leaving you here alone. I'm going to go pack."

Sherlock sighed looking at his little girl. There was no way he was going to let anything happen to her or John even if it killed him.


	9. intimate time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally some oral fun.

As they walked inside of the apartment building John was taken back by the beauty of he place. There were two large crystal chandeliers and mirrors from the floor to the ceiling. A woman greeted them.

"Hello. You must be Sherlock and John," She said. "Very nice to meet you. Mr. Holmes told me you two would be staying. We have a copy of his key for you. His place is the penthouse."

She retrieved the key and handed it to them.

"If you need anything just call the desk. Maids, cooking, child care. We can set you up."

"Thank you," John said a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

So that was how the rich half lived. Izzy was starting to wine. It was past her feeding time.

"I better let you go. Sounds like the little one is hungry."

John and Sherlock walked over to the elevator and got on followed by men with their luggage. They rode up to the penthouse without saying anything. Sherlock opened the door to the apartment.

John couldn't believe it. White carpets, marble everywhere, and big bay windows. John wondered off to find the kitchen. Everything was so clean. He was afraid to touch anything. John set the car seat on the kitchen table. He made up a bottle and handed it to Izzy. He picked up the car seat and carried it to the living room.

All their bags were there.

"This place is amazing," John remarked.

Sherlock didn't respond. He walked over to the telephone and hit play on the answering machine.

**I'm sure you two are already there. I won't be there until late. Help yourself to anything in the place. You three can sleep in the guest room. It is the door that is unlocked. The maid will be in first thing tomorrow. If you need her before then her number is on the freezer. Have fun.**

Sherlock started unpacking things. John picked the baby up and sat with her on the couch.

"I could get used to this," John said putting his feet up. "It's nice having a clean house."

"Are you saying I'm messy?" Sherlock asked making sure he threw his coat on the floor next to the couch.

"You threw that on the floor just to annoy me didn't you?" John asked.

"Yep," Sherlock said plugging his phone in to charge. "So what?"

Sherlock kept the flat very cluttered but his room was always spotless. He could keep things organized if he wanted to.

"I'm starving," John said getting up from the chair with Izzy.

He waked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Nothing but milk. Damn he was as bad as Sherlock. There were names of take away restaurants on the front of the refrigerator. John took the list and walked back into the living room.

Sherlock had turned on the telly and was flipping through channels.

"What do you want to eat?" John asked holding up the list.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not really hungry," Sherlock said.

"Food is a necessary thing in life," John said picking a place. "Anorexia is a serious illness. You might want to have that checked out."

"Anorexia is for teen girls," Sherlock said with a grumble.

John ignored his comment and picked up the phone. He quickly ordered some Chinese food.

"I'm going to give Izzy her bath while were waiting on the food," John said.

"I normally do that," Sherlock quickly put in. "Perhaps I outta do it."

"I think i can handle it," John said grabbing the small plastic baby tub.

He walked into the bathroom. The bathroom looked as good as the rest of the apartment. The tube was big enough for two.

Hum maybe they would have to try that.

John filled the baby tub up with water and undressed Izzy. She fussed a bit as John placed her in her new tub but calmed down quickly.

Damn he forgot the shampoo and her special cup.

"Sherlock can you bring me her bath things," John called.

Sherlock rushed into the room with her shampoo and cup. John took them from him and began washing her hair. Sherlock left when heard the doorbell. John sighed.

"I can see your daddy is going to be pretty protective," John said he washed her up. "I pity the first boy you bring home."

John wrapped her up in the softest towel he could find. He carried her into the living room and dressed in one of her feety pajamas. Sherlock was busy setting the table in the kitchen. John quickly set up Izzy's swing and placed her in it. He turned it on gave her cow ad headed into the kitchen. He was surprised to see the table set. The must have given him a free soda because there was one on the table.

"I haven't had soda in years," Sherlock said pouring some for himself.

John smiled as he sat down at the tale. He noticed Sherlock looking into the living room.

"She's in her swing," John said. "I think she'll be fine."

Sherlock sat across from him and started to dish out food. John couldn't remember the last time they had sat down and ate a meal.

"Are you completely sure your up to this?" Sherlock asked poking at his food.

"Sure about what? John asked.

"About being a relationship with me," Sherlock explained. "About having a child with me. In the past I've seen you about ready to pull your hair out. We're talking about for life here. Even if we split up in the future we'd still have Izzy."

"Look we have been through so much together. i trust you with my life," John said. "A lot of couples haven't been though half of what we've been through. I will not walk away from you now or ever."

Sherlock pushed away his plate as he watched John eat. John was one of a kind. If he left John he knew he might not find another one like him. Sherlock slid his chair closer to john. John raised an eyebrow as Sherlock watched.

"What?" John finally asked.

"You look sexy when you eat," Sherlock explained smiling at him.

Sherlock couldn't take anymore. He needed to hold John in his arms. He took the fork from him and sat it on the table.

"Lets go to bed," Sherlock said.

"Are you sure?" John asked. "I don't want to rush you."

"I didn't say I wanted to screw," Sherlock said with a chuckle. "I just want to go to the bedroom."

John jumped up at once and followed Sherlock to the guest room. He glanced at Isabell and found she had fallen asleep in her swing. The two of them ducked into the bedroom and shut the door. John was on him at once kissing him. They fell to the bed still in a lip lock.

Sherlock offered up his neck and John latched on. He bit just a little to test the waters. He had always been a bitter but he didn't want to bite him to hard the first time.

"Did you just bite me?" Sherlock asked in a surprised voice.

"Uh yes," John said in an uneasy tone. "Sorry. I won't do it again."

"No it's OK," he said smiling at him. "I just didn't take you for the kinky sort. You're other girlfriends never showed any signs of bite marks. Do it again if you want."

John smiled and bit down. He tried to bit where it would be covered with Sherlock's clothes. Sherlock was twisting against him. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open. John opened Sherlock's shirt and slipped it off. He thew it the floor. He let his mouth roam over all the newly exposed skin nibbling along the way.

Sherlock grabbed a hold of John's hair and pushed his head further south. John knew what he wanted but he wasn't sure if he wanted to do it. This was all new to him. He looked up at Sherlock. The look on his face helped John get over any nervousness he had. He looked so sexy with his mouth hanging open and with his head thrown back. Sherlock seemed so nervous under him. He was shaking slightly and hadn't said much. He decided to do whatever it took to make sure Sherlock was comfortable. 

The good doctor undid his belt and stripped him off his clothes. Quickly he was completely naked beneath him. John looked at the erection before him and was taken a back. Sherlock a bit larger than normal and he wasn't sure how to get all that in his mouth. He decided to just give it a shot and see how it went.

He took him into his mouth and Sherlock let out a harsh cry. The great detective knew they had to be quiet or they would wake the baby. He grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and bite into it.

Even thought John wasn't being touched he was getting off on the whole thing. Sherlock was so sexy. He was proud of himself for doing something he had secretly thought of doing for a while. Not to mention he was Sherlock's first. He was the one that made Sherlock take down those walls. The thought made him suck harder.

Sherlock tried to warn him that he was about to cum. After all he didn't think John would want to swallow that. Yet, he couldn't make words. Then he missed him chance. He screamed into the pillow as the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced tore through him. He let the pillow fall to the bed. 

John could taste a bit but swallowed it down anyway. He wanted to do it. After all he didn't want to be a hypocrite. They was something sexy about a girl who swallowed.

Sherlock was panting as John curled up against him.

"John," he manged to say. "That was amazing. But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me," John said covering them up. "Let's just relax and maybe get some sleep before Isabell wakes up."

"I'm not mad of glass," Sherlock said. "Please let me return the favor."

"Fine," John said. "But if you feel uncomfortable just stop."

Sherlock nodded but he didn't move. He just sat there as if he was waiting. John decided his lover needed some help. He tossed off the blanket and got out of the bed. Sherlock watched as John took off his clothes. His face began to flush as John removed his pants. His erection was hard and pointing towards the sky.

John climbed back into the bed. He took Sherlock's hand and placed it on his erection.

"What do I do?" Sherlock asked.

"Whatever you want," John explained. "You can touch, rub, suck or whatever you want."

Sherlock moved so his face was right in front of John's penis. He gave his erection a little lick. John gasp at the feeling. Sherlock was lapping at him like he was a cat after the cream. He took the head of the erection into his mouth. John put his hands into Sherlock's hair and gently pulled.

The detective moaned and took more into his mouth. John smirked at that. It seemed his lover liked having his hair pulled. Another tug and Sherlock was moaning around him. John's orgasm took him by surprise. He let out a squeak as he came. Sherlock began to choke around his length. He could feel him trying to swallow his cum. A little leaked out from his lips.

When Sherlock was sure John was done coming he pulled his head away. John smiled looking down at him. A little string of cum was dripping down his chin. John reached down and cleaned it away with his finger.

"That was amazing," John said pulling Sherlock down to cuddle.

Sherlock grabbed the blanket and pulled it over them. He wanted to say something but just didn't have the energy. He simply closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Sherlock rested his head on his shoulder and was asleep in seconds.


	10. old friends

Mycroft slid his key into the door and opened it. Due to the fact it was midnight he didn't expect to see John up but he did except to see Sherlock. A quick peek around the rooms told him there was no Sherlock in sight.

He opened the door to the guest room and discovered Sherlock and John asleep in bed. Little Isabell was nuzzled between them. They really did look perfect.

Mycroft smiled and shut the door. His plan had worked perfect. A baby had come up that needed a home. He found the perfect home and put two people together.

He actually felt pretty good about himself. He smirked and headed into the kitchen. A half eaten dinner was sitting on the table.

He picked up a plate and stuffed it in the microwave. He was starving.

He knew lying to Sherlock about Isabell was wrong. He should have told him where she came from in the first place. Of course he knew sooner or later Sherlock would discover the truth. It was almost impossible to keep things from Sherlock. He feared the trouble the turth would bring.

He covered as many trails as he could but there was no denying the child looked like Sherlock. Same hair. Same eyes. It wouldn't take her long to grow enough for Sherlock to notice she was already a member of the family before she was adopted.

She even had Mycroft's nose. Poor girl.

He looked at the food he had heated up and decided he wasn't hungry after all. He slipped it in the refrigerator and went to bed.

* * *

John was woken early the next morning by Isabell. She was in between John and Sherlock. She had woken in the middle of the night for food more than once. John had slipped her in between them. They hadn't set up the traveling cot yet.

John changed her diaper and went into the kitchen. He was surprised to see the maid there putting their left overs in the refrigerator.

"Hello," she said smiling at him. "My name is Roxanne. If you need anything just ask."

"Sorry," he said smiling at her. "I'm not used to having a maid. It feels weird having someone pick up after me."

"I like it," she said. "Gives me a job. That must be Isabell. She is such a darling."

"Thank you," John said filling Izzy bottle.

He left her to do her work in the kitchen and went into the living room. He sat with Isabell on the couch and turned on the morning news.

"Another suicide in London. Nineteen year old Josef Vinduška was found dead late last night." The reporter was saying. "These are so similar to the cabbie killings of a few years ago that some people are shouting-"

John clicked it off before it could finish. Sherlock would be in a panic if he saw that. Isabell whined and pushed away her bottle.

"What's wrong?" He asked moving the bottle towards her mouth.

She cried and moved her head away. John sighed setting the bottle down on the coffee table. Roxanne walked in and started cleaning the television. Isabell was still whining. She sounded hungry to John but he couldn't figure out why she wouldn't take her bottle.

"The baby having troubles?" Roxanne asked.

"She won't eat," John explained. "It's not like her."

"Babies are a tricky sort," she said walking over. "I have two little ones. Perhaps she just wants to be fussy."

Roxanne walked off to Mycroft's room. Sherlock emerged from the bedroom yawning and looked around confused.  
He nodded and walked over to John. He gave him a little kiss and looked down at Isabell.

"What's wrong with the little princess?" Sherlock asked taking her from John.

"She won't eat," John said shaking the bottle at Sherlock.

"Maybe she isn't hungry," Sherlock said sitting down with the baby.

"Well I know I am," John said getting up. "I'm going out to get breakfast."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" The great detective asked shaking the stuffed cow for Izzy.

"Yea," the doctor said. "I'm going to live in fear of anything. I'll be fine. I'm just going to get breakfast."

Sherlock didn't say anything. He simply nodded to his coat. John fished out the key to the flat and walked out. He took the elevator down to the ground floor. When he walked out the front doors he wasn't surprised to see a black car sitting out front. The driver smiled at him.

"Mycroft said that you'd be out first thing in the morning for breakfast," the driver said.

He got out and opened the door for John. John didn't like it. It was bad enough to Sherlock knew his ever move. He didn't need it from Mycroft too. John sighed but got into the car without a word. The driver got in and looked at him in the review mirror.

"So where to?" he asked.

"Mcdonalds," John answered.

He knew it wasn't Sherlock's type of food but John actually did like the breakfast menu. The driver nodded and started driving.

John didn't think about much as they drove. He was grateful for the car. He didn't want to be riding around in a cab. That he wouldn't like it. It would be too risky if there really was a cabby killer out there.

Quickly the driver found a Mcdonalds and asked John if he wanted to go in and order. John said that he wanted to and got out of the car on his own before the driver could get out. He walked inside and was waiting inline to order.

"John!" A female voice cried from behind. "John Watson!"

John turned and was surprised to see Sarah.

"Oh my god," he said as she ran up to him. "It's been ages."

He hadn't seen her since their breakup. After they broke up she left to work at another office. He hadn't blammed her for leaving. He couldn't believe he would just run into her.

"What have you been up to?" He asked.

"Not much," she said shrugging. "The new job is good. I'm working for women's clinic right now. There is a guy I'm pretty serious about. I guess I'm doing pretty good actually. You?"

"Well actually I've got a kid now," he said pulling out his phone. "Her name is Isabell."

He found one of her good pictures on his phone and handed it to Sarah. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

"She is so adorable," she said looking at the phone. "She is so tiny. How old is she?"

"Just a month," he said as Sarah handed the phone back. "Sherlock and I adopted her."

"Sherlock?" Sarah asked in surprised voice. "Wow. I didn't know you two were together."

"Yea," John said as he got to the counter. "Um. I'll take three Bacon Mcmuffins and an order of pancakes."

He handed the lady her credit card. He turned back to Sarah. Her head was titled slightly to the left and she had curious look on her face.

"Well that's good," Sarah said. "A baby. A boyfriend. That's good."

She didn't seem happy. She smiled and brushed her hair out of her face. It was a faked smile. Too pressed. Too tight. John had seen the smile on Sherlock's face a thousand times.

"Well you did leave me," John said sensing what Sarah was sad about. "I mean you told me you wanted out."

"I know," she said in a soft voice. "It isn't really that. It's just your life is so together."

"It can't be all bad for you," John said. "You must have someone in your life."

"Yes," Sarah said. "I do. A really great guy but...well you and Sherlock are made for one other."

John didn't know what to say. It really sounded like Sarah was jealous.

"Well," John said taking his bag of food. "I really did like seeing you here. I don't see why we can't still be friends."

"OK," she said nodding her head. "I'll give you a call sometime."

John nodded before walking out. Man that he been awkward. He realized quickly that he had been avoiding mentioning Sherlock. He had only said his name once. Maybe he had given her the impression they weren't happy together.

Shit.

He looked back inside. She was still standing there in line. Perhaps he should go back and clear up that point.

No he was being silly. He had made it clear he was serious about Sherlock. He walked back to the car and got in. He didn't even notice someone was following him.


	11. words

John was taking a long time. Sherlock was starting to get nervous. He couldn't help but worry about him. Sherlock put the baby into her swing and turned it on. She still wouldn't take her bottle. Roxanne had even give it a try but she just didn't seem hungry. Perhaps she could sense something was going on.

Sherlock walked into the kitchen and was making himself a cup off coffee when his phone beeped. He turned the machine on.

He walked into the living room and picked it up. There where three picture text. He opened them. He was surprised to see pictures of John on the phone.

He was in a Mcdonalds standing in line and he was talking to someone. Sherlock couldn't quite see who it was. He clicked to the next picture.

That one was closer and Sherlock could see it was a woman. A harder look at it told him it was Sarah. Sarah. John's ex-girlfriend. What was she doing there?

Sherlock didn't believe John was the cheating type. Chances were they had just run into each other and were talking. He really didn't believe his lover was up to anything.

John would never hurt him. He didn't have it in him.

Who had taken these pictures? Perhaps one of Mycroft's men. Sherlock deleted the pictures and closed his phone. There was no way he was going to ask John about them. If John wanted to tell him he saw Sarah that was up to him. Trust was a hard thing for him but he wanted to trust John. After all he had trusted him with his life in the past.

He got up to fetch his cup of coffee. He noticed John's suitcase open next to the table. He flipped open the lid and saw the start of a crocheted baby blanket. Very well done too. Nice tight stitches.

He didn't know John knew how to do that. Nice to see the man still had some secrets. 

He closed the bag. Apparently that was something John wanted to keep to himself. Perhaps he thought Sherlock would make fun of him. Sherlock would never do that. After all it was usually women who took up the hobby.

He smirked. Too cute. His John could crochet, cook, and clean. Sherlock didn't like labels. While John did all that he wasn't a woman. Even though they hadn't discussed it Sherlock predicted he would be on the receiving end of sex. At least at first. He was ok with that. He was ok with about anything when it came to John.   
-

John walked into the apartment and set the food down on the coffee table. He didn't see Sherlock or Isabell anywhere. The telly was on so he couldn't be far.

"Sherlock?" he called.

"In the kitchen," Sherlock said. "Trying to get Isabell to eat some oatmeal."

"Any luck?" John asked getting out his food.

"A bit," Sherlock said. "What did you get to eat?"

"Mcdonalds," John said sitting down. "I know it isn't your kind of thing but I like it."

"Anything interesting happen while you were out?" Sherlock asked.

"Not really," John said.

"Really?" Sherlock said walking out of the kitchen with Isabell. "Nothing."

John paused eating and looked at him. Did he know he had run into Sarah? How could he know? Of course it was hard to get anything past Sherlock. The man had eyes everywhere.

Sherlock knew at once John was tense. His face was tight. He was pressing his teeth together harder than he needed to. His hands were even shaking. Something was seriously bothering him. He was trying to hide something.

"I did run into Sarah," John said.

"Oh," Sherlock said putting Isabell on her play mat.

She lay on her back looking at the little animals hanging from above her head.

"You knew that didn't you?" John asked.

"Of course," Sherlock said. "Did you tell her about me and Izzy?"

"Yes," John said raising his voice a bit. "Of course I did. What in the world are you trying to get at?"

"I just don't want you sneaking around with one of your ex girlfriends," Sherlock said.

"I wasn't sneaking around," John said setting the food down. "I ran into her getting us food. I told her all about us. I showed her a picture of Isabell. I wouldn't hide our relationship."

"I don't want you hanging out with her," Sherlock said snarling at him.

"I wouldn't care if you were hanging out with one of your exs," John said shaking his head. "That is if you had any!"

"Sorry that I didn't sleep with everyone I met!" Sherlock yelled.

Sherlock ran into their room and slammed the door.

"Shit!" John cursed putting his face in his hands.

How could he have said that? What was he thinking? Sherlock was just a bit uneasy. This was his first serous relationship. Hell. John didn't think he had ever had a girlfriend or boyfriend before. Of course he was going to feel nervous and unsure. He couldn't blame him for that. 

The baby began to cry heavily. No doubt the yelling scared her. John got up and picked her up.

"Sh," he said rubbing her back. "It's OK. Don't cry honey."

John walked the length of the apartment trying to calm the child. No doubt she wanted Sherlock. He was usually the one who calmed her when she was upset.

Sherlock plopped face first down on the bed. He pushed his face into this pillow.

How could he have been so stupid? There was no way John could just forget his past. Was he insane to ask him to?

He could hear Isabell crying. John was trying to calm her and wasn't having any luck.

He just couldn't lie there and let his daughter suffer. That would self centered. Yet, he knew he couldn't face John. They both said things that they regretted.

Of course Sherlock would never admit he had said anything wrong. It just wasn't like him.

John had started this whole thing by not telling him he ran into an old girlfriend. Of course Sherlock might not have ever known about it if it hadn't been for the pictures.

Oh who was he kidding?

It would have taken him a whole thirty seconds to see after John walked in. He was wearing all the signs of hiding something.

After a couple of minutes Sherlock couldn't take the sound of Isabell crying anymore. He got up from the bed and walked out the bedroom.

He found John and Isabell standing in the kitchen looking out of one of large windows.

"Want Daddy?" Sherlock asked Isabell holding out his arms.

Isabell cried louder when she saw Sherlock. John handed her over and she stopped crying. She curled up against her Daddy.

"Sherlock," John said. "I should have told you I ran into Sarah. I guess I would want to know if you were-"

John didn't bother to finish his sentence. Sherlock was walking away from him. John sighed watching his retreating back.

Sherlock went back into the guest room and shut the door.

The doctor really was at a lost for what to do. He wanted to apologize to Sherlock but he didn't even want to hear it. Maybe he just needed his space.

John fetched his crochet project and went to the living room to work on it. Working with his hands always helped him think.

* * *

Sherlock laid out on the bed with the baby next to him. She was half asleep curling up against him. Sherlock's phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the text message on the screen.

**Now. Now. Whatever will you do.**

There was no signature at the bottom and it was from a blocked number. Sherlock took a deep breath and closed his phone.

It made sense now.

Someone was trying to get him and John to fight. If they were fighting each other there was no way he could focus on the case.

Dammit!

Why hadn't he thought of that when he got the pictures?

Someone took those pictures and sent them to him to start a fight. It was someone who knew him well enough to know how he could react.

He picked up Isabell and ran out into the living room with her. He knew for sure that HE was back. He needed to talk to John so they could figure out how to lure him out of hiding.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad people like it. I didn't expect that it would get much attention.

The plan was simple. John would remain at Mycroft's place. He would keep the baby with him. They would give the illusion that they were separated. That was clearly the plan. He was trying to drive them apart. Maybe it would draw Jim out. The strange thing about plans is that they rarely work out like you want.

He walked into the sitting room and it didn't feel right. It didn't feel right to be there without John. Isabell's things were all over the place. The separation felt a little too real.

Sherlock pulled out his mobile and quickly typed up a text to Lestrade.

**I'm back at Back Street. Any leads?**

**SH**

Sherlock set the phone down and walked into the kitchen. He reached into the refrigerator and wasn't surprised to see there was no milk. Dammit! Nothing seemed to go right for him anymore.

He leaned against the island and gave a sigh.

"Who is there?" came a familiar female voice.

"Who is that?" Sherlock asked.

His mother emerged from his bedroom with a surprised look on his face.

"Mum?" Sherlock asked in a shocked voice.

This was not part of his plan. He didn't need his mother in this. She didn't have anything to do with it.

"I'm sorry," she said nodding to his room. "I've been here since you left yesterday."

"Why?" he demanded. "Why are you here? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Sherlock please..." She whispered. "I don't want this to be like this. I want us to be mother and son."

"Why aren't you home?" Sherlock asked throwing his coat on the couch. "Won't _Dad_ be missing you?"

Aaliyah couldn't blame Sherlock for being mad at her. Her actions caused him a life of pain. She knew it made him turn to drugs.

"We're getting a divorce," Aaliyah explained. "He filed a couple of months ago."

"Why?" he said looking at his phone. "I don't really care but part of me is curious."

"Don't you know?" She asked standing over him. "I thought you figured it out. You're starting to lose it."

"Shag another guy?" Sherlock asked.

Sherlock was surprised his father had put up with her so long. Their marriage was always on the rocks. His mother didn't answer. He looked up at her during her silence.

"What a minute," the detective said standing up. "This is all starting to make sense. Mycroft gives me a kid. He tries to be secretive. You show up. Now news of a divorce. How did I miss this? Isabell is your kid. That is my sister."

"I made a mistake," his mother said already fighting tears. "I'm not sure how it happened. Marcus and I had a fight and the next thing I knew I was with another man."

"And the father?" Sherlock asked almost afraid of the answer.

"I...he told me his name was Mercy Mosh," she said sitting down in Sherlock's chair. "I should have known he was lying."

"Who was he?" the detective asked growling at him.

"I didn't know who he was at first," she said crying heavily. "I didn't! You have to believe me."

What was his mother trying to hide? Why would she hide who the father was? It would have to be someone he didn't like. Lestrade? That was out. He got back with his wife, despite her cheating, and they seemed happy. There was only one other person he could think of.

"Are you saying that you were with Moriarty?" Sherlock said walking over to her.

"Yes! " she cried. "We spent a weekend together in Sussex. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm so sorry. I truly didn't know it was him. After you died I never saw a picture of him. I couldn't bring myself to. I saw his face in the paper the week after and I knew it was him."

Sherlock couldn't believe what he was hearing. He walked into the kitchen and starting pushing things off the counters. Too much. Way too much information. It felt like his head was going to explode. This had happened to him as a kid. He always had a hard time processing emotion. Sometimes he would break things because he couldn't express his feelings with words. Plates and glasses crashed to the floor.

"Sherlock!" she cried jumping up. "Stop this it won't help anything."

"I hate you!" Sherlock said turning on her. "I hate everything about you!"

Sherlock didn't really hate his mother. He just hated the choices she made. How could she betray him like that? Sleeping with that man was the wost thing she could do.

"You're just angry," Aaliyah said. "I know you are. You have every right to be."

"Get out," He snarled turning his back on her. "Get out now. Go home to your boyfriend."

"He isn't like that to me," She said. "I swear it. I don't feel anything for him. Please listen."

"Get out!" Sherlock screamed again.

Someday Sherlock would listen to her. Not that day. He needed time to take in everything.

"I don't have anywhere to go," she confessed. "After Marcus found out the baby wasn't his he kicked me out."

"I don't blame him," he said snarling at her. "Who wants to be with a whore."

Aaliyah must have known she had pushed him too far because she left. Sherlock walked over to the couch and sat down. He picked up his mobile phone and flipped through his pictures. He stopped on a picture of John holding Isabell.

That was his daughter. That was John's daughter. One day that little girl would call him Daddy.

She had Moriarty's blood in her veins but he would never be her father. She would never know. She would be protected from that horrible part of her history.

His phone beeped. He flicked through to see a message from Lestrade.

**What happened? Is everything alright?**

**Lestrade**

Sherlock closed the phone and tossed it across the room. He didn't want to take to anyone. He just needed to think about the new information he had received. He felt sort of bad for what he had said to her mother but he was so mad. How could she do it? How?

He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

He pressed his head into one of the pillows and tried to sleep. It was the only thing he could think to do. It was only a few minutes before he was asleep. He wasn't sure how long he slept. He felt someone in the room.

"Have a nice sleep?" a male voice was in his ears.

Sherlock opened his eyes slowly to see Moriarty in his chair. His eyes narrowed and he had murder in his heart.

"You bastard," Sherlock growled sitting up.

"Sorry my parents were married," he said smiling at him.

"What do you want from me?" the detective asked.

"How is she?" the consulting criminal asked. "How is Isabell? Does she sleep alright? My mother said that I didn't sleep well when I was a baby."

"She sleeps just fine," Sherlock said trying to stay calm.

"Isn't it funny how things work out," Moriarty said. "I got your mother pregnant to get back at your whole family in a general way. I didn't except you to get the baby. Isn't it all perfect?"

"She isn't your child," he said getting to his feet. "She belongs to me and John."

"Oh yes," he said with a chuckle looking at his hands. "John. How did you like those pictures? I'm sure you didn't take them well."

"Don't worry about that," Sherlock said. "The two of us will make up without any problem. You're little plan won't work. I have you now. I could just turn you in."

"I've been tried in this country's wonderful court system before," Moriarty said smirking. "I was found innocent before and I can do it again."

Moriarty stood up and walked over to Sherlock. They stood eye to eye.

"Why don't we do this like men?" he asked. "Take a shot. Hit me. You know you want to."

Sherlock's hands were at their side and they were shaking. He knew what his greatest enemy was doing. He wanted me to hit him first. If it went on long enough Sherlock might go away for murder.

"I won't," Sherlock proclaimed.

"I knew it," he said shaking his head. "You aren't just on the side of the angels. You are an angel. I knew it all along. You don't have it in you."

"I'm not stupid," the detective said. "I put on hand on you and I'll end up in prison."

"Good boy," he said clicking his tongue.

"I promised John that I would do this legally but I don't see a way to do it," Sherlock said. "You have however made a mistake."

"And what would that be?" he asked.

"You take for granted that I won't do anything illegal to you," Sherlock said. "You always got mixed up with emotion. You want to see that little girl. I know you do. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her. You made a mistake by getting in over your head."

"Is that to?" Jim asked. "I'll have you know she doesn't mean anything to me."

"Then why did you ask about her?" Sherlock asked.

The blank look on Moriarty told him he had hit a nerve. Sherlock smirked picking up his phone. He punched in a phone number. He hung up as soon as he made contact.

"John will never know about this," he said putting the phone down. "He won't know how I handled this. He'll just think you disappeared. Mycroft had you once before and he let you go. He let you go because he thought you knew something but we found out that you know nothing. You revealed that to me on the rooftop. You got my mother pregnant because it happened. I don't believe you did it against my family or you would have sent a message to her revealing yourself. You wouldn't have hoped she would have found out by chance. You don't leave things to chance. It was only when the baby was put in my hands that you decided to get involved. The fact you knew that baby was placed in my hands means you were following her whereabouts. You cared and you still do."

"Mycroft?" Jim asked. "Aw...you going to turn me over and have me killed. Is that the plan?"

"Oh no," Sherlock said. "I want you kept alive. I want you remember there is a little girl out there with your blood in her. I want you to remember you're never going to see her and that I'm going to raise her."

Moriarty didn't have much time to respond before two men rushed into the apartment and rushed him. They took him by the arms and held him steady. Sherlock didn't even look back as he was taken out of the room.


	13. Chapter 13

John didn't know if he wanted to know what had happened between Sherlock and Moriarty. All he knew was that Sherlock promised him the man was gone for good. John could only hope he hadn't done anything dangerous to get rid of him. He knew that the villain deserved it, but he didn't want to see Sherlock in jail for murder. He needed him. Isabell needed him.  
  
Sherlock didn't really want to tell him what he had found out about Isabell but he couldn't hold it inside. Part of him needed to tell someone. Besides, John had every right to know. After all, Isabell was his daughter as well.  
  
John took the news surprisingly well. It didn't really bother him. Isabell was his daughter after all. All this meant was that Isabell was likely to be smart. He wouldn't hold it against the baby. After all she didn't have anything to do with it. Sherlock seemed pretty shook up by the whole thing. John wondered if he would be able to handle it.  
  
He wished that Sherlock could make up with his mother, but he knew that wasn't likely to happen. He knew he had every right to be angry with her. She had betrayed him in a way. Sherlock just couldn't understand how she could lay with the most evil man in the world.  
  
Perhaps things would work out in their own way. He didn't want to push Sherlock into anything. In the end he decided that he would be best to just let things play out.  
  
That was just over a week ago. John now sat in the sitting room feeding Isabell a bottle.  
  
Sherlock was out. For the last week he had taken every case Lestrade brought his way. John guessed he was trying to keep his mind busy.  
  
John didn't complain. He knew Sherlock had to deal with it on his own. The problem was that he was beginning to feel neglected. Sherlock gave Isabell most of his free time. He rarely touched John. He starting to think Sherlock was regretting that part of the situation. They had yet to have sex and hadn't done much more than kiss once in a while. Oral sex had only happened once.  Perhaps Sherlock was just nervous.  
  
"Your dinner is here," Mrs. Hudson said, walking in with a couple bags of take away.  
  
"Just put it on the table," John said.  
  
He wasn't aware of the depressed sound of his voice until it came out.  
  
"Something wrong, Deary?" She asked, sitting the bags down.  
  
"I don't know," He said, and truly wasn't lying.  
  
There was ring from his mobile phone. He placed Isabell in her swing as she had finished the bottle. He opened the message walking into the kitchen.  
  
 **On my way home. Is there dinner?**  
  
SH  
  
 **John quickly typed back.**  
  
Yes.  
  
JW  
  
He closed his phone and started getting plates out of the cabinet.  
  
"I know what the problem is," Mrs. Hudson said. "You two haven't had much of a chance to see each other. Children and work do take up a lot of time. You might be parents but you did have needs."

John blushed when he realized what she was talking about. He did not want to talk about sex with Mrs. Hudson.

"Why don't I take Izzy?" she asked giggling.  
  
"I can't ask you to do that," John said, taking the food out of the bags. "It isn't your job."  
  
"Oh, I love the baby," she said, smiling at him. "I wouldn't mind. She really isn't any trouble. I'll take her the night. I mean, you two will be just upstairs if anything should go wrong."  
  
"Alright," John said. "That's if you really don't mind. She just ate so she'll be quiet a few hours."  
  
John retrieved her diaper bag and handed it to her. She smiled, putting the bag over one arm.  
  
"Hello little Isabell," she said, picking up the swing. "Let's go downstairs to my place so your parents can have some grown up time."  
  
John smiled as Mrs. Hudson left with the baby. John loved that little girl with everything he had but a break was nice. Thank god for Mrs. Hudson.  
  
He barely had dinner set out when Sherlock walked in the door. He was smiling for a change.  
  
"Hi John," he said, giving him a quick kiss. "What is it tonight?"  
  
"Chinese," John said, sitting down with his plate. "You seem happy tonight."  
  
"I just solved a triple murder case," he said, getting his share of the food. "No one thought for a second it was the maid. A cliché I know but the ear ring was a dead giveaway.  
  
"That's nice," John said, pushing his food around. "Mrs. Hudson has Isabell for the night."  
  
"I bet Mrs. Hudson will love that," Sherlock said, eating. "She does love babies."  
  
"Sherlock," John said, putting down his fork. "I wanted to talk to you about us."  
  
"What about us?" Sherlock asked, looking up.  
  
"It's just that you've been ignoring me for the last week," John started but Sherlock cut him off.  
  
"I just finished telling you I solved a triple murder case. I did say that out loud didn't I?" Sherlock said. "It's had my attention most of the week. I've been working."  
  
"I know," John said, staring at his food. "I understand that this whole thing is new to you. I just wanted to make sure you weren't having second thoughts."  
  
"Of course not," Sherlock said. "I suppose I am bad at balancing work and life. I suppose I've always thought of them as one thing."  
  
"I know," John said, picking up his fork. "I'm sorry I brought it up."  
  
"No," Sherlock said, pushing away his plate. "I should have noticed I wasn't paying any attention to you. I really am new to this kind of thing. I'm ready to make up for it. Now is the perfect time isn't it? I think tonight is the night."  
  
"Yea I guess so," John said, looking confused.  
  
Sherlock jumped up from the table and headed into the bedroom. John sat at the table, confused. A few minutes ago he had been annoyed with Sherlock. Now Sherlock was waiting for him in the bedroom. He wasn't going to try to understand him. Dinner could wait.  
  
He walked into the bedroom.  
  
Sherlock had hung up his coat and was sitting on the bed. He was unlacing his shoes.  
  
"You look awfully relaxed," John said, sitting down on the bed.  
  
"Am I supposed to be nervous?" Sherlock questioned.  
  
"No," John said, shaking his head. "It's good you aren't nervous. I'm just a bit surprised is all."  
  
Sherlock kicked his shoes off and lay down on the bed. John looked at him and couldn't believe how sexy he looked.  
  
His clothes were on. He wasn't doing anything really sexual. He was just lying there waiting. He trusted John enough to lead him through his first real sexual experience. That touched John. John wished had a little warning. He would have lit some candles. Perhaps bought some wine. Would Sherlock have liked that? No doubt that would thought it was too romantic.  
  
John lay down on top of him and began to kiss him deeply. Sherlock lifted his neck in an offering to John.  
  
"I guessed this position would be the most favorable to you," Sherlock said as John moved to suck on his neck. "You're old fashioned and since you are-"  
  
John lifted a finger and placed it to Sherlock's lips. He lifted his head just enough to look at him.  
  
"No deducing," He said simply before biting Sherlock on the neck. "None of that in bed."  
  
Sherlock moaned and his eyes snapped shut. He lost his will to deduce. He just wanted to lay there forever with John's mouth on him. He finally understood. He finally understood why people enjoyed sex so much. He finally understood why people were willing to kill for it. It was like heaven on earth. This was more intimate than their oral session.  
  
John moved away enough to start to undress Sherlock. His lover relaxed under his touches and didn't resist in any way. It was the most relaxed John had ever seen him. All the tenseness was gone. Sherlock's mind seemed at peace. He tossed his clothes to the floor and quickly began to take his own off. They would have to make sex a regular thing.  
  
"Are you sure you know how this works?" John asked panting heavily.  
  
"Yes," Sherlock said turning a bit red. "I did do a little research online over the last week. I'm sure you know how this works."  
  
"Yes," John said taking Sherlock's erection into his mouth.  
  
"Oh John," Sherlock moaned letting his head fall back. "You were meant to do this."  
  
John chuckled around his length. Even though he doubted he would admit it out loud it did feel natural to him. He had been with a lot of women in his day but he had never felt so at peace. He actually felt whole when he was in Sherlock's arms. It was something special. God. He sounded like a chick.  
  
Even though he didn't really want to John pulled his head away from the treasure in his mouth.  
  
"Do you have any lotion in here?" John asked. "I should have grabbed some on the way in. What about condoms?"  
  
"Oh yes," Sherlock said, snapping back into reality. "Don't have condoms."

John didn't like the idea of doing it without protection. He was so used to it. Did they really need them? Sherlock couldn't get pregnant. John often got checked 'just to be safe'. Sherlock always got tested every six months due to his past drug use. No. They didn't need them.  
  
He opened his bedside table and rummaged through it. He tossed a few things onto the floor. A plastic snake, two screws, and a travel box of cereal. John couldn't help but wonder what that stuff was doing in there. He would have to remember to ask him. After a minute he produced a bottle. He tossed it to John.  
  
"Winter Dry Skin lotion," John said, reading the label. "This should work just fine."  
  
John took Sherlock back into this mouth. Sherlock grabbed one of the pillows and put it over his head. He didn't want Mrs. Hudson to overhear them. John focused on the cock in his mouth. He had forgotten about Mrs. Hudson. He was too caught up in the moment to even think about her.  
  
He uncapped the bottle and squeezed some out onto one of his fingers. He slipped the finger down to Sherlock's entrance and started to slide it inside. Sherlock let out a long moan. John smirked and let the finger slip deep inside Sherlock. He wanted to see Sherlock's face.  
  
John let the erection fall out of his mouth.  
  
"Take the pillow off you face," John said in a strong tone. "I want to see your face."  
  
Sherlock threw the pillow off the bed and looked down at John. He tried to look him in the eye but he found he couldn't. His eyes rolled back in his head as John found his prostate. John took that as his chance to add a second finger.  
  
"I want it!" Sherlock cried, no longer caring about who heard.  
  
"Ask for it," John ordered.  
  
He wasn't often this in charge in bed but part of him was seeing that he liked it.  
  
"Please," Sherlock said. "Don't make me beg."  
  
John smirked, removing his fingers from his boyfriend. He lubed up his length and placed it at Sherlock's entrance. He lifted his legs and put them around him.  
  
"Wrap your legs around me tight," John instructed. "This might be a bit rough at first."  
  
John pressed forward and claimed Sherlock's virginity.  
  
"John!" Sherlock cried, grabbing hold of John's arms.  
  
"Hold tight," He said as he felt Sherlock tighten around him in every way possible. "I need to get in all the way. If it hurts too much tell me."  
  
"I can handle it," Sherlock managed to get out through clinched teeth.  
  
In truth Sherlock didn't know if he could. It felt like fire up his spine.

"Stop!" Sherlock shouted.

John stopped moving instantly. Sherlock wasn't sure why he asked him to stop. It hurt so bad but he didn't think that was why. He was so over whelmed. There were so many smells, feelings, and thoughts. His brain was taking in too much information.   
  
"Are you alright?" John asked, kissing his ear. "Do you want me to take it out?"

"No," Sherlock said quickly. "I want you to keep going."

John frowned slightly but kept pushing forward. He took his time claiming the new territory.

"Feel better now?" the good doctor asked.  
  
"I think so," the consulting detective said. "It still hurts but I can handle it."  
  
That made John feel bad. He didn't want to hurt him. He only wanted him to feel pleasure but he knew that would be hard going into it. He wouldn't move until Sherlock was ready. It was killing John not to pound him into the bed. It wasn't long before Sherlock was grinding into him.  
  
"Please," Sherlock begged, rocking into him. "I want it. Please."  
  
John began to move inside of him. There was no way he was going to let Sherlock lay there begging. Slowly at first, but it wasn't long before he was pounding into him. Sherlock was moaning his name over and over. The headboard was starting to rock into the wall.  
  
"Oh god Sherlock," John cried as he started to reach his peak.  
  
"Do it!" Sherlock yelled, knowing what was getting ready to happen.  
  
That was all John needed. He gave one hard thrust as he came deep inside his lover. The feeling of him releasing inside of him was too much for Sherlock. He let nature take its course as he spilled onto his chest. John collapsed on top of him.  
  
"Damn," Sherlock said as his boyfriend rolled off him. "I'm speechless."  
  
"That has got to be a first," John said with a chuckle.  
  
Sherlock curled up against him. He whimpered a little at the soreness inside of him. He would feel better in the morning.   
  
"So I take it the sex was good," John said, resting his head on his shoulder.  
  
"It was perfect," Sherlock said with a yawn. "No more words John. Let's get some rest."  
  
John shook his head. Good old Sherlock. He closed his eyes and slipped off the sleep.


	14. birthday

The flat was busy as Sherlock and John got the place ready for Isabell's first birthday. John insisted that Sherlock clean the flat. John went to out to get the cake and was shocked to come home to a clean flat. So Sherlock knew how to clean when he had to. Sherlock didn't want his daughter growing up in an unfit home. John would have to remember that.

John considered baking a cake for a Izzy but had decided it against it a last moment and bought a cake. He really wasn't a good baker and Sherlock could barely make an egg. Perhaps next year. Sherlock knew he would have to learn to cook. John was the one with the full time job. Most of the house duties were going to fall on him. 

Despite the rough first start their lives had come together. Sherlock still hadn't made up with his mother but in general their lives were coming together.

"Dadda!" Isabell cried from her seat in the highchair. She knew something was going on but she wasn't really sure what it was.

"Right here," John said, picking her up.

The island in the kitchen was laid out with a large cake featuring 'Hello Kitty'. There were bowls and chips and dip as well. John wasn't really into party food but he knew those were the kind of things his mother would have set out.

A small pile of presents was sitting on the coffee table. Sherlock and John could tell their little one was going to be very spoiled. They were still waiting for their guests to arrive.

"Is everything in order?" Sherlock asked, taking the lid off the cake.

"Yes," John said sitting down with the child on the couch. "Everyone should be here in a minute."

"Hello boys," Mrs. Hudson said, walking into the room.

She had a present in her hands. She sat it down on the pile.

"How is the birthday girl?" Mrs. Hudson asked sitting down next to John.

"Oh!" Isabell cried, trying to reach out for the colorful boxes.

"Not yet Darling," John said chuckling.

Before long the flat contained the only friends they really had; Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, and even Sarah. Mycroft had sent a present but he hadn't shown up.

"See the candle?" John asked sitting down with Isabell at the island. "Blow it out. Can you do that?"

Sherlock stayed back with a smile on his face. Parties weren't really his thing and he felt out of place. It would be a while before he got used to those kinds of things. It was worth it for Izzy.

Isabell made a whining noise and looked at her father.

"Alright, I'll do it with you," John said. "Blow!"

Isabell gave an attempt but didn't quite make it. John blew out the last of the flame.

"Itty!" She said pointing at the cat in the middle of the cake.

"Kitty," John corrected. "But good try."

Sherlock took the child as John cut up the cake. He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch with her.

"Uh!" she groaned pointing at the presents again. "Dadda!"

"Come on in here," Sherlock said as people got their cake. "Izzy is getting impatient."

Everyone found a place to sit in the crowed sitting room. Molly picked up a present and handed it to Sherlock.

"Come on Izzy," Sherlock said starting to open it. "Let's get this paper off and see what it is."

A bag of building blocks was inside. They were different though. Instead of the normal letters on the side they had symbols for the Periodic Table.

"Perfect," Lestrade said with a chuckle.

John shook his head as he took them and placed them on the floor under the coffee table.

"Am I late?" said a voice from the door way.

Sherlock looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway. She was forcing a smile and holding a present.

"No," John said taking the gift from her. "You just have a seat. We're opening presents."

Even though Sherlock didn't really want her there he didn't say anything. He didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone and he didn't want to upset Isabell.

"Let's open Grammy's present next," Sherlock said handing the package to Izzy.

She started to rip around the edges a little bit but still needed help from Dad.

"Itty!" Izzy yelled when she saw a stuffed Hello Kitty doll.

Fifteen minutes later Izzy had new clothes, a toy phone, stuffed animals, a couple books, a farm play set, and some bath toys.

In the end Izzy found herself sitting on the floor playing in the wrapping paper.

"Spend a fortune on toys and they want the paper," Sarah said with a laugh. "They're like that for a few years."

Everyone had left after an hour. Even though Sherlock hadn't said anything everyone could tell he was getting a bit stressed. The only one that remained behind was Aaliyah. She had volunteered to help clean the dishes.

John was upstairs in Isabell's room finding a place for her new things. Sherlock found himself standing in the kitchen watching his mother.

"I believe you," he said out of nowhere.

"About what?" his mother asked, not looking at him.

"I believe you didn't know it was Moriarty," he said. "I've given it a lot of thought and I do believe you. I really don't believe you would have slept with him if you knew who he was."

"Thank you," Aaliyah said placing another plate in the dish drainer.

"I guess I was a bit hard on you," the detective said. "I just didn't know how I was supposed to react."

"You don't have to say you're sorry," she said, turning to look at him. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's water under the bridge. I just want to see you. I want to see you, John, and Isabell."

"We can do that," Sherlock said. "Where are you staying? When I last saw you, you said that you didn't have a place to go."

"I've been staying with Lestrade and his wife," she explained. "I made him promise not to tell you."

"How is that working?" Sherlock asked. "I mean, he and his wife are happy together."

"Oh please," she said waving a hand at him. "I've got almost enough money saved to get out of there. Greg is not my type."

"That's good," he said, very relieved by her reply.

"And how are things with you?" she asked glancing over her shoulder at him. "Things with John good?"

"Fine," Sherlock said smiling a bit. "I mean I think he wants to get married. He keep hinting at it and he uses my last name sometimes."

"Are you going to ask him?" his mother asked as she finished the dishes.

"I don't know yet," Sherlock said looking at this feet. "I haven't made up my mind. I don't see what the big deal is anyway."

"Think about it ok?" Aaliyah suggested drying her hands. "I hate to run but I have to go. I have to be at work soon."

She walked over and picked Izzy up.

"I love you little Izzy," she said kissing her head. "Be good for your parents."

"Dadda," she said looking over at Sherlock.

"Thatta girl," Aaliyah said before placing Isabell back in the pile of paper.

She gave Sherlock a little wave before she slipped out of the sitting room. Sherlock sighed as he started to put away the left over cake. His life really was never going to be same again.

END


End file.
